Transient
by Goggie
Summary: 8059 YamaGoku. At seventeen, Yamamoto is visited by a distraught twenty-seven year old Gokudera. As time goes on the visits get more and more frequent, unraveling the secrets of their shared future. Updated regularly
1. Glimpse

**A/N:** I've had this idea bobbing around in my head for a long time now. This is my first try with this fandom so let me know if the characters seem off. (The chapters will normally be longer then this one, 5-10 pages) Enjoy! :)

**Summary:** At 17, Yamamoto is visited by a distraught 27 year old Gokudera. The visits get more and more frequent, and Yamamoto begins to unravel the secrets of their shared future.

**Warnings:** Slash, Language, Angst

XxXxX

They sat in Gokudera's small apartment, going over a practice test for math at the last minute. Normally Tsuna would be with them, sitting in the middle and playing mediator between his two guardians. But a call from Kyoko the night before changed his plans, and it was too late for the other two to reschedule a different study session.

Yamamoto's pen tapped against his paper, purposefully off-beat. He would never understand this formula, and Gokudera would never explain it properly unless Yamamoto got his attention. Speeding up and slowing down the tap-tap-tap, hiding his grin and waiting.

"Goddamnit!"

Yamamoto looked up, eyes innocent, "What's wrong Gokudera?"

"You know exactly what's wrong! Stop making so much noise!"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just having trouble with this problem…"

"Still? I explained them all five times!"

"It's just number three I don't understand."

"Ugh, okay, fine! Look, the X is outside the bracket! So you need to carry it inside and multiply it to the eighty and the fifty-nine before anything else! That gives you-"

"You're shouting Gokudera."

"It's my house!"

A loud bang saved Yamamoto from replying, as a familiar explosion of pink mist erupted in the spot where Gokudera had just been sitting. He squinted across the table, trying to see through the haze.

"Oy, Gokudera. You okay?" Yamamoto waved his hands between them, clearing the rest of the smoke.

He froze when he saw what greeted him. An older Gokudera had appeared (which wasn't unexpected after explosions like this), taller, broader, a set jaw with stubble and a few fresh scars peeking out from under his shirt, tie slightly askew. Yamamoto had seen that all before, what struck him was the face; it was strained and sunken, it's eyes rimmed with dark circles like after weeks of restless sleep. Yamamoto's hands were still outstretched between them, almost touching the Storm Guardian's nose. He quickly retreated back to his side of the table.

After three years as guardians, they were all used to quick visits from the future, and their older counterparts were normally jovial and happy to see their young friends again. Gokudera, who would sometimes arrive from the future in a foul mood (and return in an even fouler one), could usually be relied upon to smile fondly at Tsuna, yell at Lambo or light up a cigarette. It hadn't escaped Yamamoto's attention that the older Gokudera would pointedly ignore him during these visits, not unkindly, but with a sweeping of his eyes and a forced disinterest.

This time Gokudera was looking straight at him. Transfixed. His breath was shallow and ragged as though he'd just run a marathon, and his skin was a clammy pale color against the black overcoat. Where normally the atmosphere between the two was relaxed, if not a little strained, this was entirely different. This was a tension Yamamoto wasn't used to, Gokudera's gaze was unwavering and seemed to fill up all the space between them. A minute passed, then another, and the room stayed silent. Yamamoto couldn't hold the Storm Guardian's gaze for more then a few seconds, his eyes dropping to the pages in front of him.

When four minutes had passed Yamamoto cleared his throat, still not looking up, "Gokudera-?"

A sharp intake of breath cut him short and his eyes automatically shot up to the source of the noise. Gokudera's gaze was still pinned on him, searching and burning through his head, but now they glistened slightly at the corners. Yamamoto stared in shock, unable to look away as one thin hand appeared from behind the table, extending slightly towards the Rain Guardian then faltering and drawing back.

_This is all wrong._

Just as Yamamoto opened his mouth to say something more, another loud bang and puff of pink smoke engulfed the room. Gagging on the air and forced into a coughing-fit, he heard a much more familiar voice fill the room.

"That fucking cow! You'd think at eighteen he'd have stopped shooting that damn thing every which way. Mistake my ass! He wouldn't even- Jesus are you giving birth out your mouth or something?"

Yamamoto laughed and his coughing redoubled. He was so relieved to have the normal Gokudera back, swearing and shouting for next to no reason. His heart was pounding a mile a minute and his hands shook in his lap. It was the coughing, he told himself, but Gokudera's haunted eyes were still fresh in his mind.

"You look awful, did my future-self scare you shitless?" Gokudera was grinning at him, looking suddenly triumphant instead of annoyed.

Yamamoto smiled back, forcing himself to steady his voice. "Yeah! You looked really bad-ass Gokudera! Didn't say much though."

The bomber snorted, crossing his arms. "The strong silent type, obviously."

Now Yamamoto was smiling for real. "Gokudera, you're the loudest person I know, besides Ryohei."

"Shut up idiot!"

XxXxX

Lambo was waiting for him when he got back. Leaning against the opposite wall, bazooka in hand, he looked up at Gokudera from under his bangs.

"Thank you." Gokudera said stiffly, wiping at his eyes and making for the door.

The Lightning Guarding nodded and walked after him.


	2. Business

"Good morning Yamamoto." Tsuna called to his friend from across the classroom, a goofy grin lighting his features. He turned to Kyoko, who was standing by his side and his hand twitched to reach out and hold hers. He forced himself to stay still and mentally berated himself. They couldn't show affection at school, he himself had made that rule. It was bad enough that his friends were all involved with the Mafia, he wouldn't put Kyoko in any unnecessary danger.

Yamamoto smiled distractedly back at his boss, wiping at his eyes and yawning. He'd been unable to sleep for most of the night, Gokudera's haunted face kept him tossing and turning until finally, exhausted, he'd given up and hopped in the shower.

"You don't look well Yamamoto-kun, are you feeling alright?" Kyoko asked, advancing to put a small hand on his forehead.

The Rain Guardian laughed, "I'm alright Kyoko-chan! You don't have to worry. I just stayed up too late studying I guess."

The hand withdrew but the look of concern remained. "Okay, but make sure to get plenty of sleep tonight." She smiled sweetly at Tsuna, "I've got to get to class, I'll see you at lunch."

Tsuna's hand ghosted against hers for a second, "Later." He replied.

When Kyoko was out of the room, Tsuna sighed and plopped down at the desk next to Yamamoto, eyes still trained on the door. "You know, I didn't see Gokudera this morning, normally he gets here first."

"He was up pretty late too, I asked him to explain the formulas to me and it took a long time."

Tsuna nodded, suddenly looking nervous. "I didn't get a chance to study at all. I won't know any of the answers!"

"Don't worry Tsuna, I'm sure it'll work out." Yamamoto consoled his friend while secretly worrying about the same thing. Gokudera may have explained it for the better part of four hours, but he couldn't seem to remember any of it now. Whenever he tried to go over what Gokudera had taught him, his mind simply reverted back to the older Storm Guardian.

Yamamoto rubbed his eyes again and put his head down on the desk. Why was it always easier to sleep right before class then at night? He should probably be studying, but he reasoned that a quick nap would help him think straighter during the test. Curling his arms around his head, he relaxed in into the temporary dark.

"Sorry I'm late Tenth! I was putting some finishing touches on the Marcello Family battle reports." Gokudera's voice rang out from the doorway. Where Yamamoto might have once been startled by these dramatic (and loud) entrances, he now barely even flinched.

"Oh, Gokudera, I'm glad you're here. We thought you might have been sick." The relief was evident in Tsuna's voice, and it went unsaid that he was more worried about kidnapping and violence then a small case of the flu. "Sorry I missed our study session yesterday, I should have given you guys more warning."

"No need, it was no trouble at all. Plus Baseball-brain got me all to himself." Gokudera said and faced the Rain Guardian for the first time. "Oy!" He griped, prodding Yamamoto's chair with his foot. "You'd better get an A on this test! I didn't spend all night quizzing you just to have you sleep through it."

Yamamoto lifted an arm away from his face and smiled up at his friend. "I won't, I promise." He stifled a yawn and closed his eyes again. "Just taking a little nap is all, it'll help me concentrate."

Gokudera snorted. "Whatever, just don't screw up." He turned his attention to Tsuna. "I've got the reports in my bag if you'd like to go over them before class. It shouldn't take long, I outlined most of the main points separately."

Tsuna shook his head. "It's too early for business, and I'd like to read through the details when we have more privacy. Maybe after school." He replied, making sure to sound neutral. They'd had a few close calls over the years with civilians overhearing things in public places. Nothing too serious, but the leaks were worrisome and sometimes led to 'containment protocol' coming into effect. Something Hibari thoroughly enjoyed, and Tsuna refused to discuss.

"I'm sorry to bother you with it. Once you sign off on the judgments we won't have to worry about it anymore. Chrome will be happy to know you agree with her decision to execu-"

"Gokudera." Tsuna interrupted, glancing around at the students who were slowing trickling in. "Would you mind going over the formulas with me? I didn't get much chance to study."

"Of course." Gokudera said, pulling out the chair next to his boss. "It's really simple once you start recognizing the different problems. You just keep applying the same rules over and over."

Yamamoto drifted in and out of their conversation. Every once in a while he would catch a bit of the lesson Gokudera was giving, but mostly he was listening to the other students. They were loud and careless in the morning, writing on the board and frantically reviewing for the test. He heard, more then once, someone calling out "But _what_ test!"

Their teacher was a young woman, quickly restoring order to her class the minute she walked in. "Okay everyone, let's get this over with. The sooner we start the test the longer you'll have to finish it."

Yamamoto grudgingly sat back in his chair and leaned over to reach his book bag. He didn't need to look up to know that Gokudera had taken the spot to Tsuna's right, leaving him his seat on the left. Yamamoto didn't mind, he'd never really cared about being Tsuna's right hand. To be honest he was glad he got to sit by the window in every class.

"Pencils out, clear off your desks. That means _you _Asano." As she weaved through the rows handing out the test papers, Yamamoto couldn't help but notice many of his male classmates trailing her with their eyes. He'd known when they'd been assigned to her class that she was attractive, but he'd never found her that appealing. Too curvy, too short, he couldn't put his finger on it.

"You have the full hour to complete this, with five minutes at the end for reviewing. You may begin now."

There was a rustle of paper as thirty hands flipped their sheets over. Then silence. Yamamoto looked down at his own test. He recognized a few of the problems from Gokudera's lesson, but mostly it was all gibberish, like looking at G-script and trying to understand what it meant. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Yamamoto looked out the window. There were birds in the trees opposite their building, and squirrels climbing the telephone poles. The grounds were being mowed, and distantly through the glass he could hear the engine cut the air as the blades did the grass. He couldn't see the baseball pitch from where he was sitting, but he could imagine the dust blowing around the diamond while players jogged into place.

He had made the team after only just one tryout, it had helped him secure a spot at the school where his academic standing surely would not have. Even Gokudera had grudgingly admitted that baseball might be a worthwhile sport (if only because it meant they could all continue going to the same school). But with the realization that the Mafia was not a game, and that the Vongola was very much a real crime family, Yamamoto had come to the conclusion that baseball was no longer a viable career option. He'd never reveal the extent of his distress to his friends, but the loss of that particular dream still gnawed at him.

"Half an hour everyone, you should be on at least question ten by now."

Snapping back to attention, Yamamoto refocused on his test and started to write.

XxXxX

It took Tsuna, Gokudera and Yamamoto exactly an hour to walk home from school. Tsuna's house was still their regular spot to study, so it went unsaid that they would head there together. Even though Gokudera's apartment was closer to school (and was a much quieter place to work without Lambo and I-Pin around) there was something special about their original meeting place.

"…Dino isn't sure what happened after the first explosion, understandably he had to escape from the falling debris. This leaves only Chrome's report detailing the aftermath, luckily it was her and not Mukuro, I can never get him to fill out his paperwork on time." Gokudera rattled off the information to Tsuna while they walked. Lunch period proved to be too short a timeframe for everything Gokudera needed to say, and with Kyoko around there was very little Tsuna was willing to discuss.

Yamamoto yawned. He hadn't been present during that mission (Thank God), he'd been assigned to a much more delicate situation in Italy which turned out to be reliably boring and political. He'd arrived too tired to go out sight-seeing, and his Italian was still too rough to hold a casual conversation with the locals. His mission had been simple: Congratulate their fat boss on his third marriage and get them to agree to sell their product at a lower price. With a translator, it'd been easy as pie.

"…then created an illusion of some police entering the warehouse to help scatter the remaining thugs. The bodies of the boss and his consigliere were left in the main office, which was later destroyed in the ensuing blasts. She managed to retrieve a few of their files from the room before leaving, but many of them were destroyed. Most are irrelevant now, however there are a couple things we might be able to sell for a decent price."

Tsuna nodded. "Good. It would have been a big waste if we'd gone through all that trouble for nothing." They turned up Tsuna's street. "I don't like it, but I agree with Chrome's decision to put an end to it there. Hopefully the Marcello will rebuild more peacefully this time." He shook his head a little and continued more quietly. "So many people we trusted have turned against us. I didn't think it would take this long for them to accept my inheritance."

Yamamoto cleared his throat and spoke up for the first time since they'd begun walking. "It's always like that in the beginning Tsuna. It happens all the time in professional baseball: a captain retires or quits and the team has to get a new one. Sometimes it's hard for the players to accept a new leader, even a good one."

Tsuna smiled up at his friend. Despite his growth over the years, Tsuna still held doubts which shared with his closest guardians. He'd accepted the inheritance of Vongola Decimo for the sake of protecting his friends, but there was more then just fighting and defending involved. The influence of the Famiglia was enormous, and Tsuna was still getting the hang of the financial, political and social burdens of Mafia life.

The trio rounded up Tsuna's walkway and entered the house. The overpowering scent of spices and roasting chicken greeted them at the door, making them all smile lazily at each other and head towards the kitchen. Only to be ushered upstairs by Tsuna's mother when they were caught peeking inside the stove. There wasn't much to review for school, so Gokudera pulled out some of the Marcello files and handed them over to Tsuna.

"Reborn will want to see these, I'll keep them here until he gets back." Tsuna tucked the papers into a special set of drawers that Reborn used when he stayed at the Sawada house. "He's still in Cuba with Bianchi – oh – sorry Gokudera."

Gokudera shook his head, looking a little green. "That's okay. I'm glad she's still out of the country. Hold on I've got a couple more things for you to sign."

Yamamoto closed his eyes, satisfied that Gokudera was more then capable of dealing with the remainder of the paperwork. His own report had been much simpler: Fat boss was surprised to see me, looked a little nervous, dropped the price. This would be the perfect chance for him to continue the nap he'd started in homeroom.

"Hey Idiot don't fall asleep on the table like that. You're drooling all over Tenth's homework."

"Whaa?" Yamamoto cracked an eye open and yawned for the hundredth time that day. "Sorry, I should probably head home to bed. Where's Tsuna?"

"He's in the other room with I-Pin, she came in all upset about something and insisted on talking with him alone." Gokudera scowled. "I don't remember being that annoying when I was eight."

Yamamoto laughed tiredly. "Of course not, no one thinks of themselves as annoying, otherwise they'd just stop it right?" He grinned at Gokudera's huff of indignance and continued. "You know, I probably would have done better on the test if I'd slept last night instead of studying."

Gokudera rolled his eyes. "I knew you would mess it up. I saw you looking out the window the entire time." He paused to erase something he'd just written. "You owe me for wasting so much of my time!"

"Alright, what is it you want Gokudera-sama."

"For you to never call me that."

"That's it?"

"No. I also want you to pay attention next time I try to teach you something."

Yamamoto laughed and leaned back against Tsuna's bed, propped up on his elbows. He should probably be heading home, his father would be wondering where he was if he didn't get home in time for supper. He checked his watch, it was already half-passed six. How long had he been asleep?

_Bang!_

Yamamoto started and looked up around the room. The spot where Gokudera had just been sitting was now occupied by his older counterpart, and Yamamoto couldn't help but suck in his breath. He'd gone over this a million times in his head, what he should have said last night, what he should have asked. What had happened? Why did he look so exhausted?

The smoke cleared a little more and Yamamoto could see that this time, Older Gokudera looked much better. Still too tired and too skinny, but not as ragged or unhinged. The sight seemed to flip a switch in Yamamoto's mind and he relaxed. All night he'd been worrying and thinking about the Storm Guardian from the future, he hadn't realized how tense it'd made him. No wondering Kyoko-chan and Tsuna had been worried that morning.

"Gokudera." Yamamoto said and was glad his voice came out steady. "You really scared me yesterday, I hope nothing bad happened. You're looking better now though, that's good. But you should stop making fun of Lambo so much, or he'll keep hitting you-" He faltered. Gokudera had yet to say anything in reply. He just continued to stare at Yamamoto's face, even as the Rain Guardian's words died on his lips, he still said nothing. "Gokudera?"

"Hayato."

Yamamoto did a double take. That's not what he'd been expecting in terms of response, and the word was spoken so quietly that for a moment he thought he'd imagined it. Older Gokudera cleared his throat, as though sensing Yamamoto's hesitation.

"Hayato." He repeated louder. "That's what you call me. It sounds so formal, hearing you say it the other way."

Yamamoto blanked for a second, then smiled. "I don't think the you of this time would like it if I called you by your given name."

"I was stupid back then." It came out as more of a growl then a sentence, and Yamamoto wasn't sure how to reply. This was so different from the silence of last night's visit, he wasn't sure what to make of it. Hayato's eyes drifted away for the first time, down to the papers scattered on the table in front of them. He picked up one of the reports. "Marcello… I remember them. The dirt they had on Lervato Corp. helped finance my new lab." He looked wistful for a second, clutching the paper and looking into empty space.

"Did you and Lambo get into a fight?" Yamamoto was desperate to keep the conversation going, but he couldn't think of anything else relevant to ask. It was an unspoken rule amongst the Guardians that they shouldn't ask about the future unless it was completely necessary.

"No, why?" Hayato seemed a little amused by the question, but his answer only confused Yamamoto.

"Didn't he hit you with the bazooka?"

The Storm Guardian's face blanked for a second, and his mouth opened partially to form an answer when another Bang filled the room and the seventeen year old Gokudera had returned. Coughing and spluttering he got up off the ground and left the room, muttering about needing to find a toilet.

Yamamoto sat in the room alone for a little while longer until his father phoned and he had to pack up his things. He was glad to have the walk home all to himself, the fresh air helped clear his head. This was going to be another long night…

XxXxX

Thank you for reading :) I'm thinking of getting a Beta if anyone is interested. Please Review!

Reviews:

**7chicks:** I was planning on making it a surprise, but then decided it would add more to the story if the reader figures it out before the characters. Thanks for reviewing! **Carnu:** Thank you, I hope this chapter was satisfactory. **ClaymoreDarkAlicia:** Thank you! I appreciate it (although not so much the milk bit, that was pretty gross). If you find any mistakes please let me know, I fixed the numbers in the first chapter. **ViciousLies:** You'll find out soon enough! Keep reviewing :)


	3. Tea Party

Yamamoto sipped at his tea gingerly and glanced up at the clock. Four o'clock. Normally he'd be at the restaurant at this hour, helping his father prepare for the evening rush.

Next to him Gokudera was fidgeting with something in his pockets, probably his cigarettes. They'd been told upon arrival that the Beccio family's boss had a strict no-smoking policy. Something about his wife dying of lung cancer, or maybe his son, Yamamoto couldn't remember. This was a fairly minor family, one he hadn't even heard of until a week ago.

"_Just a quick check up." Reborn said, handing over two plane tickets. "They've been expanding a lot recently, so go poke around a bit and see if there's anything suspicious going on." _

Yamamoto sighed. Unless you counted the god-awful tea, there wasn't anything even remotely suspicious about the Beccio. They'd been greeted at the airport with smiles and welcomes, they'd been driven to the lush family estate in a limousine and they'd been served lunch in the main dining hall. Afterwards they were granted a private audience with their Third, Carmine Beccio, to talk business.

That was three hours ago.

Now they were sitting outside the main office, waiting to be introduced to the various members of the Beccio one by one. They'd said upon their arrival that they didn't have much time to linger, but Carmine had insisted that they keep all formalities. 'I miss the old days.' He'd lamented. 'Back when tradition was worth something!'

As though Carmine Beccio knew anything about 'the old days'. He was only thirty-five.

"This is bullshit." Gokudera growled. "If I didn't know any better I'd think they were stalling us."

"You think maybe they're hiding all their dirty magazines?" Yamamoto said, putting down his cup.

"Ha-ha. I'm gonna go look around. Feel free to be an idiot and just wait here all day."

Yamamoto put a firm hand on Gokudera's shoulder as he tried to stand. "Calm down. We haven't mentioned anything about their expansion yet. They have no reason to suspect us of investigating."

Gokudera shrugged out off Yamamoto's grip but remained seated. "Wouldn't you be suspicious if one of the biggest families sent two of their best men for a tea party?"

"Yes. But nothing would confirm my suspicions more then finding one of them snooping. We can look around later."

Gokudera glared at him in response and sunk back into his seat. He hated diplomatic missions. Not only were they boring as hell, but Yamamoto was always in charge. What made it worse was Gokudera couldn't deny that the Rain Guardian was better at negotiations then he was.

A butler emerged from the door across the hall and beckoned to them. "This way gentlemen, I apologize for the delay. Not all our employees are as punctual as we would like."

Yamamoto smiled warmly and said, "Not at all, we enjoyed looking at the decorations. Carmine has a beautiful art collection."

"Of course. The master takes great pride in collecting pieces from across the globe."

Gokudera huffed next to him and whispered so the butler wouldn't hear, "Yeah, trying to make up for that ugly mug. Bet that costs him a fortune."

They continued down the hall until they reached a door which lead outside. A great stone bridge had been erected between two halves of the estate separated by a courtyard and garden below. The view would have been spectacular if they weren't so annoyed and tired.

"Just a short walk from here."

Yamamoto looked around curiously. They'd crossed the bridge and left the lush gardens behind, and now found themselves in a much different kind of environment. This side of the house seemed colder, drafter. As though it hadn't been used in many years. There was no thick carpeting, no priceless paintings on the walls.

He felt Gokudera stiffen at his side and he knew the Storm Guardian must have sensed it as well. Something suspicious _was_ going on here.

"I'm sorry." The butler said abruptly, turning to face them. In his hand he held a small pistol, sleek and elegant with an ivory handle. If they weren't in such immediate danger, Yamamoto would have laughed at the thought of such a beautiful gun.

Gokudera had already reacted. Two sticks of dynamite were shoved into the man's pants, who clearly was _not_ a Mafioso or he would have already fired on them. Gokudera grabbed Yamamoto's arm and calmly dragged him away a safe distance.

The explosion was smaller then he expected, which was good. They'd sprung a trap, now they needed to be sneaky. He was grateful Gokudera understood that tactic without needing to be told.

"What the fuck? I put two in there right? I'm gonna kill that bitch for selling me faulty wiring…"

Or not.

"I guess that makes you right about them trying to hide something." Yamamoto glanced at the remains of their escort. "Come on, we can get out through the courtyard back this way."

They ran for nearly ten minutes before they found their way to the exit. Already out of breath, they sprinted onto the bridge and jumped down into the gardens. It was eerily quiet. If this was a trap, their predators were either very sneaky or very disorganized.

"Now what. This place is walled off."

Yamamoto scratched the back of his head, trying to remember what he'd seen of the gardens on their way over. "There must be a way to get in here from the ground floor. Don't they have gardeners?"

"Maybe they use garden gnomes."

They got only a split second warning before an explosion to their left took out a huge chunk of an apple tree, the loosened fruit flying at them like miniature cannon balls.

"You shouldn't have come here Vongola!" A voice rose behind them, from the other side of the wall. Another grenade flew over the side and landed in a clump of rose bushes, sending chunks of earth and bramble in all directions.

More voices were added to the first: angry, frenzied cries that emanated from behind the entire length of the garden wall.

"Die Vongola!"

"We'll kill you!"

"Thieves! Betrayers!"

"You'll pay for what you did to us!"

Now the Guardians were running for cover as far away from the wall as possible. It seemed as though each new voice was accompanied by a grenade of its own. Most of the explosives were landing within the first six feet of the base, only a few were making it further in.

"Ah- looks like we're stuck." Yamamoto remarked. "They should run out of grenades soon though."

Gokudera scowled "What do you mean stuck?" He rifled through his pockets and pulled out a very large red explosive. It had tape on the end attaching the fuse and a 'Lick My Dick' sticker glued to the side.

Yamamoto shot a look between the device and the Storm Guardian, then back. _How could this situation get any worse?_

Gunfire rang out above them from the windows overlooking the garden. Five, ten, fifteen armed men were shooting at them with handguns. They moved even further into the garden, using the bridge for cover.

"Okay, whatever the hell that is, now's the time to use it."

Gokudera ignored him, he already had his lighter out and was holding it below the fuse. It caught with a bright flare. Sparks started to fly as the string slowly disappeared into the device.

"A hundred meters." Gokudera instructed, handing it to Yamamoto. "Then we should probably run."

Yamamoto hesitated, eying the explosive warily. This must be pretty heavy duty if Gokudera was willing to let him throw it.

"Hurry up idiot. There's a time limit."

_Right._ Yamamoto drew his arm back and launched the stick over the wall. He couldn't really see where he was throwing it, but he figured if it needed to get that far he probably didn't need to aim too specifically.

They barely had time to turn around before the air turned numb around them. Yamamoto could hear the blast for only a second before his ears popped. Both guardians were pushed off their feet with the force of it, knocked straight forward and into the ground like dolls.

Yamamoto was pretty sure he'd fallen on his arm wrong. _I hope that's not broken. _He looked around and caught sight of Gokudera lying on the ground next to him, his eyes wide and a grin pulling at his mouth. He was staring at a point behind them, and Yamamoto was suddenly aware of intensely bright balls of color ricocheting off the ground around them. He turned to look and croaked out a laugh.

Gokudera had set off a firework. An enormous loud-as-fuck firework. He would have been more excited if it weren't for the bits of debris that were now raining down on them en masse, some still very much on fire.

He felt Gokudera tugging at his arm, getting him to stand up and get moving. Obviously they shouldn't stick around, the explosion would disorient their enemies but not kill them.

The Storm Guardian lit another stick and blew a hole into the opposite wall. They hurried through and ran across the perfectly manicured lawn, back to the waiting road and the unsuspecting city. They gambled on the fact that Beccio would try to keep a low profile, he wouldn't attack them in public.

Yamamoto's hearing returned after a few blocks. He was satisfied that his arm hadn't been broken, but a sharp pain in his foot told him he'd probably take his shoes off later and find purple skin.

"That was fancier then normal." He commented dryly.

"It was for Tenth's birthday."

"I'm sure he would have liked it."

Gokudera hummed and fished out a cigarette. "It took a pretty long fucking time to get the colors right. They better have appreciated seeing it so close up."

Yamamoto laughed. "I'm sure they won't be forgetting it anytime soon."

They continued in silence, Gokudera taking long drags from his cigarette and blowing it out slowly. This was usually the way things went after a close call. They would forgo their usual arguments in favor of companionable silence, both appreciating the fact that they made a pretty good team when they worked together.

The only logical thing to do now was to check into a hotel. Even with the enormous influence of the Vongola on their side, they wouldn't be able to fly home in their condition. Gokudera had bits of butler in his hair, and both their suits were covered with earth and burns.

Gokudera flicked his stub onto the road and started digging around for another one. Yamamoto was about to complain about littering, but thought better of it. Something else was bugging him more.

"Hey, do you ever wonder if we enjoy this too much?"

Gokudera didn't respond right away. Yamamoto looked over at his fellow Guardian, if he was surprised by the question, he didn't show it.

"We needed to get out of there. So what if we had a little fun?" He answered around his unlit cigarette, hands searching his pockets for the lighter.

"Left pocket– No, I mean in general." Yamamoto frowned looking for the right words. "You hear all this stuff, horrible stuff, about the Mafia when you're young. Then you get older and you know a bit more about how it works. Now here we are and it's nothing like I thought, I mean, it's pretty horrible, but we're still the good guys right?"

"Where the hell is this coming from?"

"I dunno, I just-"

But the end of his sentence was cut off by the now familiar eruption of pink smoke at his side. He didn't have to turn around to see Hayato emerge from the smog, dusting himself off as though nothing had happened. He glanced around.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Yamamoto suddenly felt a grin pulling at his face, although he couldn't say why. Sometimes the older Storm Guardian was so different from the Gokudera of his time, sometimes they were exactly the same.

"Negotiations. You set off a firework."

Hayato smiled, a nostalgic look on his face. "Lick My Dick. I remember that one, first in a long line of successful diversion devices."

Yamamoto laughed, trying not the think about how a firework could inspire the Storm Guardian to build weapons for murder.

He could feel Hayato looked him over, silently assessing his injuries. Yamamoto tried not to fidget, unconsciously speeding up. He landed on his injured foot awkwardly and let out a small grunt of pain.

"Hey watch it." Hayato said gruffly, grabbing Yamamoto's elbow to help steady him. "Take it easy, where are we headed?"

"Any hotel. We'll clean up then head back."

Hayato nodded and shifted his position so that he was walking much closer to the Rain Guardian. His hand traveled to the small of Yamamoto's back, applying a gentle pressure and forcing them to walk at the same pace.

"Hayato," Yamamoto stammered, trying to think of anything but the feeling of fingers against his spine. "Do… do you ever wonder if we enjoy this too much?"

He was expecting a similar response to the one he'd received earlier, but Hayato just continued walking.

"Good guys, bad guys, it's not like that." He started. "We do what Tsuna wants us to do. We don't cause unnecessary trouble. We don't involve outsiders. I guess to the rest of the world we're bad guys, but there's a lot of people we help by doing what we do."

Yamamoto was surprised to hear such a forward answer to his question. It sounded as though Hayato had already had this conversation. He looked away, mulling it over. He'd never really considered the idea of there being a gray area.

Hayato sighed and moved his hand up to the base of Yamamoto's neck, rubbing at a knot he knew he'd find there. Yamamoto tensed then relaxed into the touch.

"This stuff isn't worth worrying about. See what it does to you?" Hayato scolded quietly, working out the tension with the pad of his thumb. Yamamoto hummed in response, completely unable to think clearly. He should probably push Hayato away, but it just felt _so damn good._

The fingers moved to another spot on his neck and started to rub. Neither of them spoke, or noticed that they'd stopped walking. Yamamoto closed his eyes.

Another hand came up and brushed the hair off his forehead, slick with sweat. Yamamoto could feel the Storm Guardian drawing closer, warm breath tickling his nose. He stayed perfectly still, but something about the confidence in Hayato's movements made him want to lean in closer.

He started when a loud beeping sounded directly behind his ear. Hayato's watch alarm had gone off.

"Here's one." Hayato said, abruptly pulling away to point at a dinky looking motel across the street. Yamamoto mourned the loss of those hands, entirely uninterested in finding a place to stay. He stared at the older Guardian, trying to piece together what had just happened.

"I'll see you later." Hayato gave a small wave and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Yamamoto was still looking at the space where Hayato's eyes had been when a gruff voice said, "Good, you found one. I need a fucking shower."

When he didn't respond, Gokudera turned to eye him suspiciously. "What's with that look?" He waved his hands in front of Yamamoto's face. "Hello?"

"Huh?" Yamamoto snapped back to attention, his eyes trailing Gokudera's fingers. They were so long and narrow. Yamamoto could still feel Hayato's touch on his neck, in his hair, and he had to look away from them to stop the blood rushing to his face.

"Let's go."

XxXxX

_Ten Years Later…_

"Oy Lambo! Finally, I've been looking for you everywhere." The Storm Guardian swept into the kitchen and sat himself down on the chair opposite his young colleague. "What are you doing eating ice-cream at four in the morning?"

Lambo shrugged, spooning another mouthful. "I'm eating it before Bianchi gets here, she always ruins the deserts first."

Hayato pulled a face at the reference to his sister, he'd forgotten that she was coming back so soon. The Lightning Guardian was right to prepare in advance. He leaned over and grabbed a spoon off the table, might as well help.

His nerves were still shot from seeing Takeshi (no, he was still Yamamoto back then). He'd promised himself he wouldn't touch him. Wouldn't get himself involved with the past. But the young Rain Guardian was beautiful, even with sweat and dirt and gore covering his clothes. It was impossible for him to stay away.

He still probably shouldn't have touched him. That was stupid. He'd seen the way Yamamoto had reacted to the contact, predictably flushing and stammering. Hayato wasn't used to the dynamics of their friendship. So much had changed since then…

"You wanted to ask me something."

Hayato started and looked up from his brooding. Lambo was inspecting him through a curtain of black hair.

"Is there a way to adjust the time limit on the reverse time bazooka?"

Lambo put down his spoon. "So that's where it went." He pulled a hand threw his hair. "I don't know, you're the one who figured out how to reverse the time flow to go backwards instead of forwards."

"There must be a way to do it." Hayato scowled and continued eating.

Lambo got up and shuffled to the fridge, pouring milk into a tall glass. When he returned he cleared his throat and clasped his hands together anxiously.

"You shouldn't go back anymore." He said quietly. "You know how it works. You could walk into anything, a battle, a public area…"

"I know the risks." Hayato said flatly.

"Your past self is already suspicious."

Hayato smiled despite himself. "Of course he is- I am. This is me we're talking about." He put down his spoon and stood to leave. "I'll take care of it."

Lambo didn't look convinced, but he didn't say anything else.

XxXxX

**A/N:** For those of you who didn't catch on, instead of saying 'Older Gokudera' and 'Modern Gokudera' I'll be using his name for distinguishing the age. At 27 he'll be called Hayato, at 17 he'll be referred to as Gokudera.

As always, thanks for reading. I appreciate all the favorites and alert adds, but there's nothing a writer loves more then hearing feedback from readers. Please review!

Reviews:

**ViciousLies:** Thanks for reviewing again :) I hope you weren't waiting too long! **loonytwin:** keep reading to find out more -hehe- **lovelykate:** Thanks for reviewing, stay tuned! **XxSkyexBluexX:** Here you go, thanks for reviewing! **Plastic Roses:** Thanks for the review. I'm not quite sure about the Beta yet, maybe if I get more of a schedule lol **xxgabygailxx:** Thank you so much, that's exactly what I needed to hear to get my writing cogs a' workin :D


	4. Cold Shower

Gokudera watched quietly as Yamamoto dragged himself up the stairs to their motel room. He hadn't said a word when they'd approached the reception desk, so it'd been up to Gokudera to book them a room. It was unlike Yamamoto not to take advantage of an opportunity to practice his Italian.

Oh well. At least now Gokudera could get some peace and quiet.

"This is us, room 302."

Yamamoto nodded and opened the door, not even bothering to look around before walking into the bathroom and closing the door.

Gokudera rifled through his pockets for his cigarettes before remembering he'd smoked his last pack in the reception area. He'd sat deliberately beneath the no-smoking sign while the clerk glared at him over her computer.

"Sir, smoking is not permitted in this area." She'd snapped in Italian.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed." Gokudera replied between drags. The clerk nodded, assuming her job was done, only to realize that Gokudera had no intention of stopping.

"Sir," She started again, more nervously this time, "I apologize, but we do not allow our guests to smoke, I'll have to ask you to put that out."

"You don't have to do _anything_ you stupid woman." He muttered in Japanese, but he stubbed out his cigarette anyway, deciding it wasn't worth the trouble.

They didn't have any ashtrays available, so he put it out on the coffee table.

And Yamamoto was silent.

Gokudera heard the shower start up and scowled. Shouldn't the one with guts in his hair get first dibs? Apparently not. He swept through the rest of their room, two single beds, a low-end purple couch, florescent lights and a thin carpet that felt like velcro in certain places.

Gokudera hated these low budget getaways, but using their Vongola credit cards was out of the question now that they were on the run. Normally his business trips to Italy included a hotel room all to himself, and a minimum of four stars everywhere he went. He was proud to uphold the Vongola's high standard.

This shit-hole was depressing. He turned on his heel and left the room, closing the door with a small click. Mentally calculating the time difference between Sicily and Namimori, he decided it still wasn't too late to report back to Tsuna directly.

He made his way to the public balcony, glaring at a group of chattering tourists until they left. Gokudera had to shake his cellphone several times before it would turn on, and even then it was covered in so much soot and sweat that it was almost impossible to see the screen. He wiped it against his pants before dialing.

"H-hello?" Came a crackled voice on the other end.

"Tenth, I apologize for calling you so late." Gokudera tapped his fingers against the railing, unconsciously tracing the cords of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. "How are things in Namimori?"

"Fine, everything's fine. I wish you had called me sooner… was there any trouble?"

Gokudera drew a deep breath before answering. "Yes. We arrived all right and weren't accosted immediately, but they ambushed us shortly after we'd finished speaking with their boss. I won't go into detail right now, but it was a well-orchestrated attack-"

"But you're both alright?" Tsuna interrupted, worry evident in his voice.

"We're both fine." Gokudera said quickly. "We should probably lie low for tonight and fly back tomorrow."

Vaguely, he heard a scuffle in the background on the other line. Then Reborn's voice came on. "Put Yamamoto on the line."

Gokudera glared at his shoes, why the hell did Reborn always insist on talking to Yamamoto instead of him? "He's in the shower." He said shortly.

There was a brief pause. "I've already arranged for a flight to Palermo, you'll be staying at the Cavallone base there until further notice."

Gokudera's grip on the railing tightened. Great, just what he needed. "What does Dino have to do with this?"

"Instructions will be given upon your arrival." Reborn said with finality.

"…Understood." Gokudera said, his fingers unconsciously twitching towards the dynamite hidden under his t-shirt.

Reborn followed up with some more information about the flight. They were to make their way to the airport for nine am the following day, where they'd meet a contact from the Cavallone family. From there they'd be flown out privately on a Vongola aircraft.

"Reborn," Gokudera said, once the assassin was done giving details, "you knew they would attack us, didn't you. You knew they were up to something."

"The possibility was very high, yes." Reborn answered honestly.

"Then why didn't you warn us?" Gokudera ground out, trying to keep his frustration in check. "We couldn't get any information from them because we were too busy running for our lives! If we'd known, we could have interrogated them beforehand."

"Beccio is insignificant and therefore of no use to us. I sent you there to provoke a reaction and you succeeded. Now their treasonous feelings are out in the open, that's all that matters. Carmine Beccio is a stupid and greedy boss, he won't try anything more elaborate for now."

Gokudera was silent. He should have expected Reborn to have his own agenda in sending them there.

"Understood." He said again, snapping his phone shut without waiting for a reply.

Ignoring his desire to smoke thirteen cigarettes at once, he made his way back to their motel room and slipped off his jacket. The soft snores coming from Yamamoto's bed told him it was his turn for a shower.

Gokudera padded into the small bathroom and shut the door. Immediately he dimmed the lights to practically nothing, if there was one thing he hated about missions, it was seeing himself all fucked up in the mirror afterwards.

He shed the rest of his clothing and stepped into the shower stall. He turned the middle dial to get the water running and let out a little yelp when freezing water hit him. His teeth jammed together while he worked the other knobs until the temperature was a bearable lukewarm.

He mentally punched Yamamoto for needing a cold shower at this hour. What could possibly have aroused him about their situation? Blushing furiously, Gokudera forced all those thoughts from his mind. This was an inappropriate time to be thinking of Yamamoto in that way. In any way.

By the time the last tendrils of pink water slid down his body, he had already been in the shower for over an hour. Gokudera toweled dry and crawled under the stiff covers of his bed, willing himself to get some rest before sunrise. His last thought was of his new Armani suit, now bloodstained and ruined forever.

XxXxX

He felt a horrible pulling sensation. Dragging, stuffing, sucking the life out of him from all directions. Gokudera tossed in his sleep, sweat beading on his forehead. Suddenly he was awake, but the pain didn't stop. He panicked for a second, grabbing at his chest, his eyes wide with fear.

Then everything went black and he realized with intense relief that he recognized what was going on. He was being pulled into the future. A distant light now appeared in the distance, and he began falling rapidly towards it. Faster and faster until he collided with a wall of pink smoke and he found himself sitting at a desk, coughing in earnest.

Once he managed to breathe normally again, Gokudera took in his surroundings. He was in what he recognized as the library of their future base, or more specifically, his office. From what he could tell he was alone amidst the vast collection of books.

Something on the desk caught his eye; a scrap of paper sitting directly in the middle, with no other files in site. His name was written in capital letters across the top, the rest was all G-script. He translated it quickly in his head.

_GOKUDERA HAYATO_

_This is a message from my present self, to my past self._

_Tenth has decided that communications must remain open between the past and the present, in order to prevent any more disasters that may occur in the future. For this reason I have agreed to go back and forth in time on a regular basis._

_I realize that the continued use of the 10-year-bazooka is not advisable, however it is the only way to insure that information is passed efficiently. I have decided that it would be safest if we decide on a schedule for these meetings, so neither of us is caught off guard or put in danger by our surroundings._

_Please make sure that you are in an appropriately safe place at these times:_

_Saturday – 12pm_

_Wednesday – 5pm_

His name was signed at the bottom, though it was more of a scribbly mess and could have been mistaken for an ink spill. Gokudera snorted at the idea of signing and addressing a letter to the same person.

_P.S. It would make things easier if Yamamoto were the recipient of my reports. Tenth should not have to worry about such things until it requires his attention._

He snorted at the last part. He must have been hit over the head one too many times if he thought Yamamoto could handle such an important job. Especially one that included _memorizing a lot of small details_.

Gokudera folded up the letter and placed it in his pocket, hopefully it would travel back with him when he returned to the present….or the past. Whatever.

He jotted down a quick reply of his own, leaving it in the same spot on the desk. He still had a couple minutes left, so he decided to do some exploring.

The corridors were all empty. Gokudera thought maybe this was due to the hour, but then he realized he had no idea what time it was. His watch was still lying on the bathroom sink where he'd left it to take a shower.

"Baby herbivores should never wonder alone."

Gokudera cringed and turned around. He glared up at Hibari, cursing their sudden difference in height.

"You especially," Hibari continued, "always sulking and hiding in the library. It's pathetic."

Gokudera's fists clenched at his sides. He was tired and frustrated about Reborn, this wasn't what he needed right now.

Hibari's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing across his face. "You are indecently dressed as well. I should discipline you for such intolerable behavior."

Hibari was right; he'd worn nothing but his boxers to bed that night. Gokudera shivered, instantly feeling the draftiness of the hallway.

"It's not my fault, I was brought here right out of bed."

"How like you. Full of excuses and completely unprepared."

Gokudera leaned forward, raising his fist slightly in warning. He knew it was a bad idea to provoke Hibari, but there was only so much he was willing to take.

Hibari raised one of his hands lazily to scratch at his chin, putting his Cloud ring in full view. Gokudera recognized the challenge and forced his anger to the back of his mind. He let his hands fall to his sides.

_Two minutes, just two more minutes._

He decided the best tactic would be to keep Hibari talking until the time was up, then let his future self deal with it.

"The designs for our base are different from what I remember. Tell me where my room is and I'll put some proper clothes on."

Hibari yawned, as though suddenly bored of their conversation now that no fighting would take place. He didn't answer Gokudera right away, brushing past him and continuing down the corridor.

"_Your_ room?" He drawled, not even glancing back. "Or Yamamoto's?"

"Why would I want to find Yamamoto's room?"

But Hibari ignored him, disappearing behind solid oak doors and leaving Gokudera alone once again.

XxXxX

Hayato clamped his eyes shut as soon as he arrived in the past. The sudden shift from sitting to lying down sending all the blood rushing to his head.

He assumed based on the time that they were still at the motel he'd found earlier that night. As though to confirm this, Yamamoto let out a small snore from his side of the room.

Hayato kept his eyes closed for a while, simply listening to Yamamoto breath. It had been so long since he'd last seen the Rain Guardian asleep; he'd forgotten how peaceful it made him feel.

Hayato sat up slowly, making sure to keep quiet so as not to wake the sleeping boy. Tiptoeing over to the other bed, he knelt next to it and stared.

Yamamoto was frowning. The way he always did in his sleep. It was the only time the Rain Guardian seemed to drop his façade of jovial contentment and show his real feelings. Hayato knew from experience that Yamamoto's emotions ran much deeper then most people's. He felt more and understood more then he let on, and those pent up emotions were sometimes visible in battle, when Yamamoto's control loosened and he attacked without restraint.

Yamamoto turned around in his sleep and faced the wall, giving Hayato a full view of his back. He noticed a deep gash along the back of Yamamoto's shoulder, freshly tended and still a sickly purple color around the edges. He recognized it instantly as the scar it would later become.

He remembered the feel of it under his fingers, the texture against his lips. The way it would look after a night spent together, surrounded by bite marks and hickeys.

Hayato reached out a hand to brush across it. He didn't think about it, and it felt so natural for him to do so.

As soon as his fingers touched Yamamoto's skin, the Rain Guardian stiffened. A hand shot out and grabbed Hayato's wrist.

Maneuvering quickly but with jerky movements, Yamamoto leaned over the side of the bed and pinned Hayato's arm to the side table, his other hand coming up to grasp Hayato's neck.

Frozen, Hayato cursed himself for not remembering their early training with Reborn. Yamamoto was still asleep, eyes closed, but he'd been taught how to react to danger in all states of consciousness. Hayato knew this, but somehow over the years he'd gotten so used to Takeshi touching him in his sleep and vise versa, it hardly occurred to him to be more careful.

"Y-Yamamoto." He rasped, grabbing at Yamamoto's fingers around his neck. "Yamamoto, wake up!"

No reaction.

Somewhere in the back of his head he could hear a voice laughing at him. Here he was, twenty-seven and a full grown man; yet still he was physically weaker then Yamamoto at just seventeen.

Yamamoto's grip tightened painfully, and Hayato was quickly running out of options. He didn't want to open a box weapon at such close proximity, since most of his weapons detonated shortly after being released. He concentrated as hard as he could on Yuri's box, calling her out with his mind, only to remember that he'd locked her in his closet the night before for scratching up the conference room upholstery.

"_Wake the fuck up you asshole!_" He tried again. Yamamoto snorted in response, his eyes moving quickly behind closed lids.

Hayato's vision started to blur, he wondered vaguely what Yamamoto would be dreaming about when he finally managed to murder him. He hoped it was a nightmare.

"T-Takeshi!" He wheezed as a last ditch effort.

Instantly Yamamoto relaxed, his grip on Hayato's neck and wrist going slack. Hayato sucked in a sharp breath, gulping at the air like water. Still asleep, Yamamoto had managed to stay partially on the bed with just his head and arms hanging off the side.

Hayato touched his neck gingerly, wincing and knowing he'd wake up to find bruises there in the morning. His mental countdown told him he only had about a minute left in the past, so he ignored his other injuries.

Hayato leaned over and grabbed Yamamoto's shoulders, murmuring 'Takeshi' over and over to keep him calm. He gently placed Yamamoto onto his back, being careful not to touch the wound on his shoulder.

Then he leaned back, still breathing heavily. He didn't know what had compelled him to call out Yamamoto's proper name, but it had worked nonetheless. Hayato remembered when he'd first started using 'Takeshi' instead of 'Yamamoto', how the other Guardian had warmed up to the idea immediately. How it had affected their relationship in a way Hayato hadn't been ready for at the time.

Getting shakily to his feet, Hayato crossed back to his own bed and lay down. He'd come here to give his younger self a message, not be half-strangled. Maybe it was a bad idea to set up a schedule, clearly he couldn't restrain himself when it came to Yamamoto.

_Hayato. You used to be so smooth. What the fuck happened?_

He rubbed his eyes to help clear his head, but it didn't help any because right at that moment his time ran out and the tugging began.

XxXxX

Gokudera jerked upright, holding his head as his vision swam before him. His older-self had been right, too much time travel was making him feel sick, and he'd gone to the future twice already that day.

He squinted out into the darkness of the room, dimly making out Yamamoto, who was still in bed snoring away.

Gokudera glared at him. How could he have slept through all that noise? Reborn had trained them to be alert even in their sleep! He recalled the hitman's words over the phone; how could Reborn still prefer this idiot over him?

He stumbled over to the bathroom and flicked the lights on, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness. He slipped on his watch and checked the time: 6 AM.

A couple more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt... It wasn't like the Vongola plane would leave without them if they were a little late…

Light from the bathroom filtered through into the main room, and it's glow fell directly across Yamamoto's torso. Gokudera paused on his way back to bed and stared. Yamamoto must have tossed a lot in his sleep because his undershirt had ridden up, exposing his well-toned stomach muscles and a grey strip of his shorts.

Gokudera felt his face heat up and he forced his eyes away. He definitely needed more cigarettes.

XxXxX

**A/N:** Huuzah! I apologize for the wait, but I was on a last minute vacation with no internet and classes have already begun for me. I'm actually quite proud of having finished this chapter before a full month passed! Hopefully college will teach me to balance my writing schedule a bit better.

A quick note about the characters: I have been rereading the old KHR chapters (Oh God, I really did love Ryohei before he started saying 'extreme' in every sentence), and taking some notes on minor characters. As I've said, I'll try to avoid making any characters up from scratch... Of course, I might spruce up a resume here and there, but nothing too "extreme!"

Reviews are lovely and inspiring :)

**Loonytwin**: Yes I believe this will go up to an M rating. But who knows how soon~? I won't change it until I post something more mature. I hope you liked this chapter too! **Plastic Roses**: Haha I know right? It's something I've always imagined happening, every time he throws dynamite up in the air I think 'Happy New Year!' I think Yamamoto must have assumed they were fireworks at some point. **Ezzelin**: I love that you decided to review. I've been known to read five stories at once and not say a single word, so I appreciate it. Your review makes me grin like a maniac when I read it, now my prof thinks I'm insane! **Yui-3000**: Hi :) Your English is just fine. Thank you so much for the review, keep reading! **21****st**** Century**: Oh I can't tell you how much I like hearing that. I was worried about my writing being too descriptive so it's nice to know you like it, hope you liked this one too :) **Hira**: Thanks for the review, I hope this chapter is up to par! **Kimihearts**: Thank you! Your eagerness is amazing! Haha **Soaha**: Isn't that attractive? Those are my favorite moments in the manga, when Gokudera does something smart for once or Yamamoto puts on his 'serious face' *swoon* **ClaymoreDarkAlicia**: Thank you for pointing out the mistakes, I've since gone back and fixed them. Woo teamwork! I prefer the earlier chapters when the violence actually made sense. The recent ones are too… magical? I dunno. Thanks for the review! **Counter-intuitive**: Tut-tut I won't be giving away my story just yet. You'll just have to stay tuned to find out :)


	5. Boxing and Beach Houses

Yamamoto yawned into the fold of his in-flight magazine. Waking up at eight a.m. was nothing unusual for the baseball player, but he seemed to have slept worse then normal in their cheap motel room. Gokudera hadn't helped any, whacking him with the complimentary bible that morning instead of just tapping him awake like a normal human being.

Yamamoto shook his head violently in an effort to keep awake. Gokudera would be returning from the bathroom any moment now, and Yamamoto had a few questions about their impromptu trip halfway across Italy. He knew where they were headed, but that was it.

A flight attendant swept down the aisle towards him, stopping at his seat. She leaned over, deliberately putting her cleavage right in his face. "Is there anything I can get you sir?" She asked, smiling sweetly.

He returned her smile, making sure to keep his eyes on her face. "Not right now, but thank you ma'am."

"Oh you can call me Monica." She crooned, winking at him. "If you need anything, just push this one… right…here." She bent over him to point unnecessarily at a big red 'service' button on his armrest. The movement had her dangling a mere two inches off his lap.

Yamamoto laughed uncomfortably, his eyes darting out the window as though looking for a possible escape route. They had four flight attendants on the plane, but they could've made due with just one. One properly dressed, polite, elderly, unattractive flight attendant would have been more then enough. But it seemed the frivolous lifestyle of previous Vongola included a 'one-girl-each' mentality.

Gokudera came out of the bathroom, a thin trail of smoke exiting after him. He wiped his hands on his pants and walked over, noticeably more relaxed then during takeoff.

"Oy! Why don't you make yourself useful and get me another drink." Gokudera glared down at the woman, and despite his relatively short stature, seemed to tower over her. He raised his empty glass and swirled it around.

"Of course, sir." Monica replied, fixing him with the exact same smile she'd been using on Yamamoto. If she was at all embarrassed about the position she'd been caught in, she didn't show it. Taking his glass, she bowed to both of them and hurried away.

Gokudera huffed and slumped into his chair. Yamamoto could still smell the cigarettes on his friend's skin and was secretly glad that taking a private plane had the added benefit of letting Gokudera indulge in nicotine. He didn't care for it himself, but Yamamoto knew that the only thing with complete, undisputed power over the Storm Guardian's moods was nicotine.

"You still haven't told me anything." Yamamoto said quietly, folding up his magazine and tucking it away.

"There's nothing more to tell. Reborn didn't give me any information." Gokudera replied flatly.

"He must have given you some hint… Where are we staying?"

"At Cavallone, obviously. We'll have to spend time with that idiot Dino. I bet you he's gotten a dozen more tattoos since the last time we saw him." Gokudera mumbled, "Crazy bastard." he added as an after thought.

"It's not so bad. I spent a month there when we were fifteen, don't you remember? You turned down a promotion in Italy so I got your trip ticket instead."

Gokudera's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I decide to stick by the Tenth instead of _abandoning_ _him_, and you end up with my vacation."

Yamamoto raised his hands between them and grinned. "I thought you didn't like Dino. I was doing you a favor!"

"I'm sure that's exactly what it was." The Italian groused, accepting his drink from Bianca as soon as she reappeared. When she didn't leave immediately, he fixed her with such fierce look that she unconsciously took a step away from him, wide-eyed.

"My guess is it's some sort of diplomatic mission." Gokudera said, a bit more amicable after downing the alcohol. "But we won't know until we get there."

They didn't speak anymore after that, although Gokudera continued to order drink after drink (fifteen, if Yamamoto had counted correctly) until he finally slumped forward and fell asleep. Yamamoto mulled over the new information, trying to remember if they'd had any recent reports from Cavallone. He could think of only a couple incidents where the Italian boss had requested direct help from the Guardians, but none seemed like the kind to last so many months. On the other hand Yamamoto knew that Dino preferred making deals in person; this could just be a convenient errand run since they were in the area.

He fumbled with the in-flight blanket for a few minutes before deciding his need for sleep outweighed his requirement for comfort. He considered buzzing Monica and requesting that the lights be turned down, but figured the risk of waking Gokudera and causing a scene wasn't worth the extra luxury.

Yamamoto didn't get much time to relax, however, since they only had another hour left in the air. He mentally braced himself as they began their decent. Hopefully their contact on the ground was someone they both got along with.

It didn't take him long to discover that sleeping upright had been a terrible idea. Rubbing the back of his neck as he smiled at the stewardesses on their way off the plane, he couldn't help feeling a little smug at the expression on Gokudera's face. The Storm Guardian had fallen unconscious over his food tray; so not only was his hair plastered up at odd angles, he was also awkwardly hunched over, as though his back had a knife in it.

"Yamamoto! Gokudera!" A loud voice greeted them as soon as they exited the plane. "You are extremely late!"

Yamamoto grinned and waved to their fellow guardian. He felt intensely relieved to see Ryohei standing there by the Vongola limo and not some Cavallone suit. Gokudera was a good partner on missions, but spending too long alone with him meant mostly rhetorical conversations on Yamamoto's part.

"Sorry, sorry." Yamamoto said as they got closer. "We overslept a bit."

"Not to worry! There's a boxing match on television, and I don't need to understand Italian to know what's going on!" He pointed inside the limousine through a crack in the window. Sure enough, the built-in television was turned to a sports network, two men on opposite ends of the ring stood glaring at each other.

Gokudera mumbled something that sounded a lot like Fucking Amazing and pulled out a pair of enormous sunglasses. He opened the door for himself and crawled in, turning the volume off as he passed.

"If you can't understand it, why do you have it on so goddamn loud?"

"For ambiance! There's nothing like the cry of an excited crowd. It's the best part!" Ryohei looked expectantly over at Yamamoto as though for confirmation.

"Um, yeah that's true. The cheering is what keeps the players pumped up during a game."

"Whatever." Gokudera groused, facing away from them and rubbing his temples. "_I _can understand what they're saying, and it's dumb."

Ryohei gave the back of Gokudera's head a pitying look. Before he could try 'educating' the Storm Guardian on the culture of organized sports (this usually ended in a fist fight of some kind), Yamamoto intervened.

"Reborn didn't tell us anything about this mission, not even that we were meeting you here. Are we supposed to be working with you and Dino?"

Ryohei shook his head. "Not just me and Dino. Chrome is here too, and Hibari has been staying at Cavallone for the past month." At Yamamoto surprised look he continued. "There is no mission that I'm aware of, the kid asked me and Chrome to come last week. It's been pretty boring!"

Yamamoto scratched his chin and glanced at Gokudera, who hadn't budged. If didn't know any better, he'd have thought his companion had fallen asleep again. It looked like any further investigation would be falling to Yamamoto today.

Technically there was no point in even assuming there was a mission anymore. Chrome and Ryohei did not work well together in combat, and Hibari didn't work well with anyone ever. He could even subtract Hibari from the equation completely, since it was not unusual for the Cloud Guardian to spend long periods alone at the Cavallone base.

"Well whatever it is, Tsuna must know what's going on. I don't think he'll keep us in the dark for long!"

Yamamoto nodded and smiled. That would just have to do for now. The boxing match ended and the screen switched to a set of annoyingly bright commercials. Race cars, credit cards, beer, lotto tickets. Yamamoto turned to study something far more interesting.

Gokudera's face was angled in such a way that allowed Yamamoto to see past the Storm Guardian's thick sunglasses. Bright green eyes were cloudy with unchecked emotions, glaring furiously at the landscape outside. Yamamoto followed Gokudera's line of sight through their tinted windows.

The scenery was breath-taking. It was rare for the Guardians to get time off from missions to go sightseeing, so even the terrible weather looming over the sea struck Yamamoto as beautiful. The road ran parallel to a long stretch of beach with only a couple houses along the shore. Most of the little homes were run down and moldy where the tide came in; the paint chipping in most places and broken shutters swinging back and forth with the wind.

"Octopus! You look like you want to kill something!" Ryohei proclaimed loudly into the silence.

"Shut up Lawn-Head." Gokudera replied, scooting even further away from them.

Yamamoto snuck another quick glance at his friend; a little annoyed that Ryohei had disrupted his nice view. "The beach is really relaxing, isn't it?" He said carefully, making sure not to direct his comment to anyone in particular. "It's too bad the houses are in such bad shape."

A pause. Yamamoto mentally crossed his fingers.

"Well what do you expect?" Gokudera said a bit more calmly and Yamamoto smiled to himself. "They were built right on the sea. Compared with the surroundings, I don't think any house would look good."

"You like them?"

Another pause.

"What does it matter if I like them?"

"I'm curious."

Gokudera's gaze relaxed a fraction. "They're peaceful."

Yamamoto laughed softly. "Yeah you're right, I guess they are."

They sat in comfortable silence for a long while after that. Until the boxing match came on again and Ryohei turned the volume on maximum.

XxXxX

Yamamoto remembered his trip to Cavallone almost three years ago, but even in that short amount of time the mansion had changed considerably. New buildings had been added to the area in front of the house, like little separate homes that could function as guesthouses. Two entirely new wings had been built as well, although it was hard for Yamamoto to see the difference accurately.

The towering mahogany doors flew open as they pulled up, a lean figure in ridiculously messy clothes striding out towards them with long, hurried steps.

"You guys sure took your time. I expected you here for breakfast."

Gokudera pulled his sunglasses down just enough to peer out over the top. The effect on his expression was almost comical. "We weren't going to wake up at four a.m. just to get here on time for your bacon and sausages."

"Glad you could come at all Gokudera."

"Your sincerity is touching Dino."

The two glared at each other for a long while, reminding Yamamoto of the two boxers prowling the arena on television.

"It's good to see you again Dino!" He said loudly, forcing his way past Gokudera and out of the car. "These are new aren't they?" He clasped Dino's shoulder in what he hoped was a friendly manor, subtly steering the boss away from Gokudera.

It seemed to work, because Dino immediately launched into a vibrant retelling of how he'd chosen the fixings and colors for the guesthouses. Apparently there'd been an issue with the contractor, but Yamamoto wasn't really paying attention. He raised an eyebrow at Ryohei, looking pointedly at Gokudera. The Sun Guardian seemed to understand, ushering Gokudera inside and dismissing their driver.

Once they were alone, Yamamoto raised a hand to interrupt Dino's story. The Cavallone ignored him, already knowing what he was going to ask.

"I'm guessing Reborn kept you in the dark about what's going on here, huh."

Yamamoto stared at him for a second, then nodded slowly. "Are you going to tell me? Gathering all the Guardians like this; it must be serious."

"It is." Dino started walking, gesturing for Yamamoto to follow. "You've probably noticed the uneasiness amongst your allies recently. It's not strange when a new Boss is named, but Tsuna's been changing a lot of the Vongola policies lately. Too many, too fast. The smaller families are already regrouping under different leaders; they're the most fickle when it comes to loyalty."

Yamamoto thought back to the night a few days before, when Gokudera had been going over the Marcello report after school and Tsuna had mentioned the growing number of disgruntled allies.

"Normally that wouldn't matter, they'll come back when Tsuna proves himself. But Reborn is worried about the momentum of certain families closer to Vongola. One major ally might leave, and the others will start getting nervous. Better to abandon a sinking ship when there's still life rafts available. That's the way they'll see it."

"So what's the point of bringing us all here?" Yamamoto had an idea where this was headed; he didn't need Dino to run through all the reasons with him.

"Show a united front." Dino said simply, stopping to face the Rain Guardian. "You asked about the extensions on the house, they're meant to impress all the guests that we'll, _you'll_, be entertaining next month."

Yamamoto laughed. "A party? I thought this wasn't a game!"

"It's not. No one can refuse an invitation to a Vongola gathering, that would make them look blatantly treasonous. The purpose is to get them all in the same place, show them what they'd be up against if they ever decided to turn on us." Dino grinned suddenly. "If you're worried about having to impress them, imagine how hard it'll be for Gokudera."

Yamamoto frowned, unsure of what Dino meant by that. "He's not going to like this approach; too much ass-kissing."

"So the Smoking Bomb has issues being social, what else is new?" Dino shrugged. "You think he'll get drunk and insult a boss' wife or something?"

"He's not that immature... For the most part."

"So cover for him or keep him away. This is too high profile to risk him embarrassing the family."

Yamamoto sighed and inclined his head. It made him a bit uncomfortable to be talking about his friend in such an objective way, but he couldn't deny that Gokudera was a big liability when it came to diplomatic missions.

"I'll keep an eye on him, just don't tell him I said that."

He'd been looking forward to making it back on the pitch in time for the mid-season playoffs. Now it sounded as though his 'sick leave' was going to need at least another month's long extension.

XxXxX

_Ten Years Later… _

Hayato woke with a start. He sucked in a breath, eyes wide in the dark of his room. He felt hot, way too hot, and his body was covered in sticky sweat. He automatically reached out to the space next to him, a horrible lurch blossoming in the pit of his stomach when he felt nothing but cool sheets.

_Not again._

Hayato pulled at his hair without realizing it. Long white strands, drenched in sweat and grime. _Come on, wake up._ He rubbed at his face in frustration and sat up.

He hated his room. Sometimes he would avoid going back inside for days, sleeping and working in his office or the library. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, as were documents and dishes and empty lighters. All three ashtrays in the room were filled and overflowing with cigarette stubs.

He slipped on a shirt and pants from the floor, fishing out a cigarette from the shirt pocket. Takeshi's shirt pocket.

He wasn't sure when it'd started, but he'd found himself wearing all of Takeshi's old clothes. Now they were all mixed in with his own, unrecognizable until Hayato put them on. None of them fit him, the shirts were too big and the pants were too long, but somehow they always seemed more comfortable then his own.

Ignoring his reflection in the mirror, he headed straight out the door.

It was only a short distance from his quarters to the library and his adjoining office. He'd had it designed specifically so that he wouldn't have to wander far if ever he woke up in the middle of the night with a brilliant idea (which he imagined happening more often then it actually did).

Shuffling through the halls, he was glad no one else seemed to be awake yet. He hated the looks they all gave him. It seemed a single raised eyebrow was all it took and they would be diving for cover. At first he was glad they were giving him his space, but now it was just annoying. He wasn't carrying the plague dammit!

Lambo had been the only one to treat him normally. It had been awkward at first, but they'd figured out a dynamic that really suited them. They were the only Guardians who'd been in the mafia their whole lives; the only Guardians who had their entire families tied up in the balance of the underworld. Even with the age difference, sometimes they understood each other better then anyone else.

Hayato sat down at his desk and looked at the enormous weapon leaning against the opposite wall. He'd lifted the Bazooka from Lambo's bedroom the day before, and the Lighting Guardian had yet to mention anything about it.

He lifted it up and placed it in front of him, ignoring the files that fell off his desk and skidded across the floor. Hayato pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the top drawer. He pulled out a stack of blueprints, spreading them out on top of the weapon.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled back his hair and zeroed in on the sheet he needed. The ventilation cover would need to be removed if he was going to access the main drivers in the Bazooka, but there were no screws or latches keeping the frame in place. He had no idea how to get inside without causing a malfunction while reattaching the pieces. He'd already tried it once, and half the library had been blown away.

The task probably would have been easier if he had remembered his glasses, but the thought of going back into his room to retrieve them made him feel slightly ill.

Hayato fumbled through his notes to a page marked _Looped Reality Limitations_ and squinted down at the words. This might take longer then he thought…

XxXxX

**A/N: **I think it's pretty safe to say that monthly/bi-monthly updates are the best I can manage right now. I wish I had more time to commit to this project, but the sheer level of homework… oh god. Don't worry though, I plan on seeing this through no matter how long it takes!

Reviews which enticed me to put off class-work:

**Loonytwin:** Thank you so much for reviewing again! I really love writing random Hibari scenes, I have to stop myself from adding him in all over the place. I hope you liked the little 8059 hints I slipped into this chapter. **Polar Pig:** I feel so honored to be your first haha, I hope I've stayed true to your interpretation of their relationship. Keep reading! **Ezzelin: ***grin* I'm glad you liked it, I hope this one lives up to your expectations as well. **Viciouslies:** Ah, Constant Reviewer, I hope our relationship remains long and healthy… Your comments are lovely, so keep reading! **Plastic Roses:** Haha I'm not sure what that was about but I'm glad you liked it! **Soaha:** Yup! You seem to have picked up on that pretty early on, it'll get even more evident as the story continues. Keep reading! **Yugiohfan12: **Voila! Enjoy and keep reading :) **XxSkyeBluexX:** Haha I forgive you for not reviewing sooner, your EXTREME punishment is being last on my list of responses (ooh). I'm glad you liked it, hope this one meets your expectations!


	6. Reports

_Ten Years Later…_

Hayato sat behind the wheel of a black minivan, drumming his fingers against the dashboard. He had no idea why he'd been asked to bring the van. Normally he preferred something more subtle.

"Drive one-hundred meters, then take a right!" The chipper mechanical voice of his GPS sang out.

Hayato glared at the small gadget. It had gotten him lost twice already, both times leading him into poor districts where the residents either glared at the van as he passed or banged on his window looking for cash. He was sure the damn thing was trying to kill him.

"Your destination is in two-hundred feet!"

Hayato froze when he saw the name of the building it was directing him to. "This can't be right." He said, looking at the small slip of paper Reborn had given him. "Corner of Fourteenth and Kurana Street, Building 3C. Meet in the changing area."

He checked the name of the store: Ladies Guild Thrift Shoppe, 3C.

He groaned.

The store had a large picture window through which Hayato could see the majority of the shop. Though it was marred somewhat by grime, he could make out the pink and blue color scheme that enveloped the entire place.

Parking his car behind the building, he made his way slowly to the back entrance. If anyone he knew saw him going in there, he'd never live it down. Not in a million years.

Hayato eased the back door open and stepped inside what appeared to be the storage area. Pushing past a stack of boxes labeled 'Encyclopedias' and then another with the word 'Tiaras' written in black ink, he was less and less sure about what to expect once he entered the actual store.

Of course it was a horrible nightmare inside, his face twisting in disgust the moment he stepped into the main room.

Leave it to Reborn to pick the most unlikely place for anyone to overhear them talking. Not only would no one be caught dead in a place like this, anyone who shopped there would have to be deaf and blind to begin with.

It looked like a Hallmark piñata had exploded on the inside; everything had lace trims and gold lettering. The walls were plastered with pictures of people hugging and singing, their faces so unrealistic that Hayato had to avert his eyes to avoid getting sick.

He made his way to the changing rooms, near the second-hand stitching needles and oven mitts. Hayato had to move aside some crutches in order to sit down.

"Ciaossu." Came a voice from above.

Hayato didn't bother turning to see who it was. "Reborn." He said, adjusting his position to make room on the table.

The tiny hitman plopped down next to him, his eyes obscured by his massive black hat.

"When you said it was a mission, I didn't realize I would be shopping for Nana's new cooking supplies."

Reborn smirked. "This store sells a lot more then just kitchen tools."

"Yes, I can see that." Hayato picked up a nearby snow globe and shook it, watching as the small world inside came alive with falling particles. He placed it deliberately between himself and the Arcobaleno.

"That's pretty." Reborn remarked, ignoring Hayato's meaning.

"Why am I here."

"I want you to oversee some shipments. All these supplies are being sent to our headquarters in Italy, it's important they arrive in one piece."

Hayato blinked. _All these supplies?_ _Oven mitts and birdhouses?_

"I had no idea the mafia had decided to start up a garden club."

Reborn's smirk widened. "Depends what you're growing." At Hayato's confused look he sighed and gestured towards the front of the shop. "Go talk to the cashier, she'll explain things to you."

Hayato's scowled. "Why don't you just tell me–"

Reborn's head tilted back awkwardly, revealing his face. The hitman had fallen asleep in the middle of Hayato's sentence.

Clenching his fists angrily, Hayato marched over the entrance. He stopped in front of the cashier and glared down at her.

"Can I help you?" She said sweetly. There was something oddly familiar about her face, but Hayato couldn't place it.

"Do I know you?"

The woman's face brightened, an impossibly large grin stretching from ear to ear. "You don't recognize me at all?"

Hayato leaned in a little closer, brows furrowed. "No. Should I?"

The woman laughed and clapped her hands together childishly. All at once her features started to dissolve and morph into new ones. Her old wrinkled skin stretched and tightened over a much younger face. She grew taller and skinnier and her clothes changed color. A tuft of purple hair immerged from on top of her head and suddenly it was Chrome standing before Hayato, grinning in triumph.

"You fell for it!"

"What? I'm just not used to you turning into old codgers." He glared at the counter. "She was an extremely ugly woman!"

Chrome ignored the jibe and continued smiling. "It took me a month to get that form properly defined. This was a good way of testing it."

"Reborn brought me all the way out here to test your new guise?"

Chrome laughed. "No. I'm doing the same work as you today. Here, look."

Sweeping her hand out in a huge arch; Chrome closed her eyes and concentrated for a few moments. Slowly the store started to dissolve just as she had; cookbooks turned to ledgers, knitting needles turned to guns, buttons to bullets. The racks of clothing gave way to nondescript boxes: all labeled the same way he'd seen in the storeroom.

"How long have you been keeping this up?" Hayato asked, grudgingly impressed with the Mist Guardian's skill.

"Only an hour." She replied, opening her eyes again.

Hayato hummed his approval, walking a bit away to get a closer look at the merchandise. An hour was a long time to maintain an illusion of such complexity; he doubted Chrome had managed it without any help. He peeked back at her and saw that she hadn't moved from her spot; her one visible eye trailing him like a cat. There was an odd glint to it; a malevolence that didn't suit her delicate frame.

Hayato cleared his throat. "And what exactly are we here to do, babysit machine guns?"

"Pretty much."

That didn't seem right. Chrome could manage that all by herself, even without Mukuro's help. Hayato made his way back to Reborn, happy to see that the Arcobaleno hadn't disappeared yet.

"There's something you're not telling me about this _mission_. My subordinates are more then capable of looking after some supplies for a few hours. Why'd you call me all the way out here?"

Reborn didn't move, his eyes half lidded.

"…Reborn?" Hayato advanced warily. "Oy, Reborn!"

He reached out to tap the hitman to see if he was okay. Maybe Reborn had passed out and Hayato could go back to base. He still had all those altercations to make on the Bazooka…

Hayato had barely brushed his fingertips across Reborn's shoulder when the Arcobaleno promptly fell over and hit the floor with a thud. Hayato jumped back in alarm, letting out a small noise of surprise. It took him a second to realize that the thing he'd knocked over wasn't alive.

To its foot was attached a small piece of paper with the words: YOUR CELL PHONE BROKE, I'LL GET IT FIXED FOR YOU written in big block letters.

Hayato glared at the message, fishing through his pockets for his phone but knowing it was futile. The hitman had trapped him there, knowing Hayato wouldn't leave his duty if there was no one to replace him. He bent over and picked up the dummy, snarling under his breath. He threw the object away from him and straightened, looking back at Chrome.

"How long are we supposed to stay?"

Chrome shrugged nonchalantly. "Til the movers get here around three."

Hayato glanced down at his watch. It was already eleven-thirty. On Saturday.

A half-hour before his appointment with Yamamoto.

_Great._

He considered leaving Chrome to fulfill this mission on her own, but a quick glance in her direction quelled that thought. The bleeding effect between her soul and Mukuro's was already taking its toll on her. If she used up too much more of her own power the older man might take control and destroy the place.

With a sigh, Hayato settled into a chair and began the long wait.

XxXxX

_Present…_

Yamamoto paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly. He checked his watch for the fifth time that hour and sighed. Noon had come and gone and Hayato still hadn't arrived.

"You're sure he said twelve on Saturdays?"

Gokudera growled at him in annoyance, not even looking up from his work. He was putting the finishing touches on their report from the Beccio mission, adding relevant details about the family as footnotes. Dozens of books lay scattered all around his desk, nearly covering him from view.

"Do you think something happened to him?"

"You mean to _me_?"

"Oh… yeah. Do you think something happened to you?"

Gokudera made an irritated noise in the back of his throat and tossed down his pen. He turned in his chair to glower at Yamamoto.

"If you aren't going to help me then go away. We need to finish this report for the meeting on Wednesday."

"But–"

"If he comes and you're not here then he'll– _I'll–_ just leave you a note."

Yamamoto was about to protest further when the doors to the Cavallone library flew open. Squalo came darting inside, his sword drawn and pointed directly at Yamamoto.

"You've been avoiding me!" He yelled, much too loudly given the proximity.

Yamamoto grinned at him. The Varia had arrived a couple days before, causing a brief scuffle over who would get what room before things settled down again. He reached behind him to retrieve Shigure Kintoki, unsheathed it slowly and reveling in the deadly sound it made. "I've had other things on my mind."

"Not anymore." Squalo barked, jumping forward and bringing his sword high above his head.

Yamamoto dodged the attack easily, expecting this kind of move from his former teacher. Squalo was too eager, too predictable. The challenge in this sort of fight was in keeping pace with him; sometimes their sparring matches lasted over an hour.

Yamamoto swung his blade in a wide arch, forcing Squalo to back up. The silver haired man grunted, his eyes narrowing.

"Do you two mind?" Gokudera ground out. "I'm trying to get some actual work done."

Squalo ignored him. He raised his sword once more, ready to advance.

Yamamoto watched him, trying to gauge the man's next move. He saw Squalo's eyes darting to the left, then the right, purposefully trying to confuse him.

Squalo dove forward, his sword aimed at Yamamoto's stomach. The Rain Guardian hastily shifted to the right, getting out of the way and preparing his counter.

A sudden pain shot through Yamamoto's ankle, causing him to falter slightly and wince. He'd managed to dodge Squalo's attack but now his back was wide open. The Sword Emperor grinned, altering his course to strike again.

A book came flying across the room, whacking Squalo in the temple and making him stagger back in surprise.

"Ouch! What the hell was that for!"

"Don't attack each other in the library!" Gokudera hissed, reaching for another book and raising it threateningly.

Yamamoto laughed at the appalled look on Squalo's face and was secretly grateful for the Storm Guardian's intervention. "Sorry Gokudera." He said. "Squalo, now's a bad time."

Squalo breathed out a long string of curses, rubbing his head. He seemed ready to argue further but, sensing this, Gokudera got halfway out of his chair menacingly. Squalo looked at him warily and stalked towards the door.

"We aren't finished Yamamoto!"

As soon as he was out the door, Gokudera plunked back into his chair. Yamamoto regarded his friend with a small smile, sheathing Shigure Kintoki and slinging it over his shoulder. He opened his mouth to make a joke about Gokudera's quick temper but the Storm Guardian beat him to it.

"Don't go around picking fights if your foot's still hurting you."

Yamamoto frowned. "It's not–"

"And don't bullshit me."

They were silent for a moment, Gokudera angrily restacking the books on his desk. Yamamoto shuffled over to the book still lying on the ground, careful not to step too heavily on his injured foot.

"Here." He said, holding it out for Gokudera to take. "And thanks."

The Storm Guardian's eyes narrowed, but he took the book from Yamamoto gently, their fingertips brushing for a split second.

XxXxX

Viper sighed heavily, looking up at the Vongola family assembled in the Cavallone conference hall. The meeting was turning out to be somewhat of a disappointment. He had expected it to be darker, perhaps a little more secretive, the way things had been when the Ninth was still in charge.

Viper shook his head beneath his hood. Reborn was really losing his touch, letting that kid run the family so loosely. So far the Tenth had outlined their plan involving the lower families, allowing his Guardians to interrupt him in the middle of sentences and chat inanely amongst themselves. He hadn't even batted an eye when Hibari arrived late, offering no excuse or apology.

Viper looked over at Xanxus, who sat apart from the rest of the Varia, closer to Tsuna. Feeling Viper's eyes on him, the Varia leader turned to glare at him. Viper didn't need to read Xanxus' mind to know that he was itching for some action, cracking his knuckles beneath the table every few minutes.

The meeting had its upsides of course. Tsuna's Guardians, despite all their mindless chatter, managed to get quite a bit done. Each of them had information to report, usually involving missions they'd been sent on within the last month. It appeared the new Vongola were actually pretty efficient when it came to running the family business.

That and the Cavallone had excellent cooks. Throughout the meeting (which had been ongoing for nearly three hours now, and it was already five in the evening) butlers and servants came in and out of the grand meeting hall carrying trays loaded with delicious Japanese and Italian food.

Viper levitated a piece of pizza from down the table towards his plate. He'd already eaten a full set of sushi and half a lasagna, but his small body burned through the food as though it were nothing.

"The last three things on the agenda," Tsuna called out over the babbling of his family, "are Ryohei's report from Spain, the details on our latest weapons shipment –Reborn, why was this included?– then Yamamoto and Gokudera's report on Beccio." He looked up from his list. "Ryohei?"

"Right!" The Sun Guardian called, completely dominating the room. "I was in Madrid for nearly a week searching for that cheating scoundrel, but–"

A sudden bang exploded from the front end of the table, engulfing it in a thick cloud of pink smoke. Viper immediately raised a hand and mentally dragged Tsuna, chair and all, out of the fog. The other Varia were on their feet as well, ready to engage whatever enemy came forth.

"Sit." Reborn intoned, looking vaguely annoyed. He had been sitting on Yamamoto's shoulder to Tsuna's left before jumping away. Viper dropped his hold on the Tenth Vongola, but left his guard up. "It's the Ten Year Bazooka."

Sure enough, there came a loud cough from within the cloud. Then a hand emerged to beat away the smoke, revealing a much older Gokudera in the Storm Guardian's seat. Tsuna picked up his chair and walked back to his spot, greeting his older friend in the process.

"Did you get in a fight with Lambo again?" He asked, glancing at his eight year old Guardian. Lambo pulled a face.

Hayato shook his head, frowning at the small boy. "No, it was just a malfunction."

"Oh, okay." Tsuna sat down and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ryohei, I guess you should continue and fill Gokudera in later."

Ryohei nodded and launched back into his description of the mission. Ignoring all the references to boxing and play-by-play accounts of his fights with the Spanish Mafia, there wasn't really much to his story. To his credit, Ryohei did manage to keep the rest of the family silent throughout (if only because speaking at a higher volume would have proven impossible).

Viper had long since tuned out the Sun Guardian's voice, preferring instead to study their new arrival. This version of Gokudera seemed normal enough, but there was something off about his demeanor that piqued Viper's interest.

For one thing he kept sneaking glances at Yamamoto, who hadn't taken his eyes off the Storm Guardian since he arrived. The two kept exchanging small, secretive smiles whenever Tsuna wasn't looking. At one point Yamamoto pointed to his watch, mouthing a question.

_5 minutes?_

Hayato shook his head and grinned. _No_ he mouthed back.

Yamamoto frowned, clearly misunderstanding something. Viper was sorely tempted to peak into the boy's mind, but hesitated when a new array of food was brought in from the kitchens.

"Thank you Ryohei." Tsuna interrupted before the Sun Guardian could launch into another, completely unrelated, story. "Reborn, why don't you cover the next bit. It was your idea to order these special…"

Reborn pulled out his handgun. "These are our new models. Notice how quiet they are compared to the ones you're equipped with now."

With no warning, Reborn fired his gun straight up into the ceiling, causing Tsuna to flinch away slightly. It was a testament to how often guns went off in their presence that no one jumped from their seats entirely.

"Done." He said, putting the weapon back into its holster.

Tsuna nodded, too tired to argue tactics with the Arcobaleno. "Okay our last report is from Gokudera and Yamamoto." He looked up at Hayato, who was still occupying the seat to his right. "Shouldn't your time be up?"

"The Bazooka has been acting strange lately, but I think it'll wear off soon." Hayato replied. "Giannini was tinkering with it." He added for good measure.

"Oh. Well… Maybe we should wait–"

"Yamamoto can do it. It was his mission after all." Reborn said, ignoring the fierce look Hayato sent his way.

Yamamoto laughed uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the stack of papers on the table in front of the Storm Guardian. Gokudera had spent the better part of a week putting all that information together; Yamamoto had no idea where to start.

"I'm not sure I know enough about the situation." He said slowly. "There was a lot going on behind the scenes."

Tsuna interjected. "Yeah, I think Gokudera should be the one giving this report." He shot Yamamoto an apologetic look. "Let's take a quick break. Be back here in fifteen."

XxXxX

Yamamoto breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the family started to stand. He got up from his chair and stretched, raising his arms high above his head. He'd been sitting for so long; he hardly had any feeling left in his legs.

He caught Hayato's eye and the Storm Guardian gestured to the door. Yamamoto beamed at him as they exited together, eager to finally have a chance to speak in private. He wasn't at all surprised when Hayato lead him down the hall and into an empty room; obviously Hayato knew the house better then his younger counterpart.

"Is it really Giannini's fault that you're here for so long?"

Hayato smirked. "No." He replied. "I fixed the Bazooka so it'd give me more time here."

Yamamoto felt a surge of inexplicable joy. _Hayato is always going to stay this long_.

"But you didn't come on Saturday." Yamamoto blurted, surprised at the accusation in his tone.

"Sorry about that." Hayato answered distractedly. "Had a mission…"

He trailed off, eyes suddenly fixed on Yamamoto's lips. A moment passed and neither said anything. Yamamoto shifted, suddenly feeling nervous. Then, slowly, deliberately, Hayato took a step forward, closing the distance between them until they were nearly touching.

"I miss you." Hayato breathed, looking deep into amber eyes. A hand rose inconspicuously, settling over the base of Yamamoto's neck. "All the time…"

Yamamoto's brain puzzled over this for a few moments, but he couldn't bring himself to ask Hayato what he meant. Those fingers…They massaged his muscles slowly, gently, lulling him away from reality.

"Umm." He managed, his eyes drifting closed. He leaned forward unconsciously, resting his forehead against Hayato's. The hand on his neck drifted lower to the small of Yamamoto's back and beneath his shirt, pulling them even closer together.

Yamamoto's arms rested limply at his sides, even when Hayato bent down and brushed their lips together; the contact only lasting a couple seconds. When it was over another hand came to cup Yamamoto's face, stroking the pad of a calloused thumb against his cheek.

Yamamoto opened his eyes, recognizing the question behind Hayato's administrations. Before he could consider the consequences of what he was about to do, Yamamoto tilted his face upwards and captured Hayato's lips with his own.

The response was immediate. Hayato groaned softly into the kiss, his grip around the younger boy tightening painfully. He sucked on Yamamoto's lower lip, pulling it into his mouth, nipping it and licking it, desperate for it to kiss back. Yamamoto complied, feeling a tongue, rough and wet, pushing lightly against his own when he opened his mouth. He pressed back, determined not to remain idle, bringing his hands up to grip Hayato's shoulders.

Yamamoto felt a knee brush against the inside of his thigh and a jolt of heat rushed through his body. He gasped into the kiss, pulling away slightly. Hayato wasn't deterred, moving his mouth lower over the Rain Guardian's face. His chin, his neck, his collarbone. The hand on his face shifted to his chest, loosening Yamamoto's tie and exposing the tanned skin beneath.

Then there was the sound of approaching footsteps hurrying along the corridor. Immediately the two Guardians sprang apart, eyes fixed on the door.

"Lambo!" Came a female voice from outside. "Lambo, where are you!"

Haru came into view, sprinting past and barely glancing in their direction. Yamamoto let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He glanced at Hayato, who was staring at him with a hungry look in his eyes.

"W-we should be heading back." Yamamoto whispered.

Hayato blinked and cleared his throat. "You might want to fix your tie first."

Yamamoto let out a strangled laugh, glancing down at his disheveled appearance. He hastily began retucking his shirt.

He was almost relieved when Hayato disappeared a few moments later, leaving Yamamoto alone with Gokudera.

The young Storm Guardian looked him up and down critically. "What happened to you?" He asked.

"I have no idea." Yamamoto replied honestly, hurrying from the room.

XxXxX

**A/N:** This chapter has so much shifting perspective… I ended up getting pretty paranoid about keeping everyone in character. Hope you enjoyed it!

For those of you following my account, you may have noticed that I've started writing another story, unrelated to this one. Whether or not you're interested in reading both, please know that my priority is still this one. My update schedule will remain the same until further notice.

Reviews:

**Carnu:** I won't be revealing that information yet, you'll have to keep reading! Thank you for the positive feedback. **Ezzelin:** Thank you so much :) This is my first attempt at using so many different plot threads, I hope it's not too confusing haha. Rest assured that they will all come together quite neatly! **ViciousLies:** Thanks for another review! I know, the drama is unbearable, but that's the point isn't it? I'm glad you feel connected to the characters. **Loonytwin:** I loved writing Dino, but Ryohei will always hold a special place in my heart. Thanks for the review! **Plastic Roses:** Oh no! I'm missing out on your full review :( But I appreciate you spending time to read the story; I'm glad you're loving it as much as me! **Soaha:** Thanks for the review. I agree with you, Gokudera isn't very sociable as it is, if he lost any close friends I imagine that trait would express itself even more. Like what happened when he lost his mother. **XxSkyexBluexX:** Thanks for the review :) I'm not going to be giving away Takeshi's fate just yet, but keep reading and you'll find out haha (sorry that's not going to satisfy you at all, is it). **Foxyaoi123:** Thanks for the review, keep reading! **Tiffanybane: **Thank you so much! My favorite fanfictions are the ones with long, complicated plots, so I can understand your need for more dramatic stories involving 8059 :P **Lady Kiba: **I'm glad you found my story, new readers always make me so happy! Thank you for the review, I hope you continue reading despite possible sad revelations


	7. No Thank You

_Hayato's slim body was pressed against his chest, water pounding down around them. The tiles were cold against his hands, and Yamamoto breathed in sharply as he felt hot breath against the wet skin of his shoulder. His hand fisted tightly, nails digging painfully into his palm as their thrusts got deeper. Hayato's moans got bolder, louder, more erratic, sending shivers down Yamamoto's spine. _

_Hot breath in his ears, over and over. 'Takeshi…Takeshi..."_

Yamamoto's eyes snapped open, drawing a harsh breath as the reality of his dream faded. His body was slick with sweat and his heart was thundering a mile a minute.

It'd been a while since he'd woken up from a dream like that with such an aching hard on. His eyes darted around the room, unnecessarily making sure he was alone before getting out from under the covers.

Hobbling over to the bathroom, Yamamoto reached into the shower to turn on the water. Instantly his mind was flooded with images.

_Squeezing slippery thighs in his grasp, pale skin tinted pink from exertion…_

Yamamoto drew back his hand; the shower was probably not the right way of solving this particular problem. He went to the mirror; maybe the bruises left from training with Squalo would sober him up. The enflamed apple his right eye had become certainly grabbed his attention for a few moments. Then he checked over his neck.

_A wet tongue sliding across his throat, biting and pleading and demanding with each pass…_

He shut his eyes and groaned, he would have to deal with it the traditional way; that much was obvious. If he didn't follow the images to where they wanted to go, he'd be haunted by them until they came true.

Yamamoto sunk onto the toilet and pulled down his boxers, breathing a sigh of relief as the constraining material was removed. He looked down at himself and willed his dream to become real for a moment.

_Long fingers curling around him, white hair mussed, lips parting and getting closer..._

He sucked in a breath. The sheer number of images that assaulted his brain was overwhelming, and not all of them were from last night's scenario. There were new ones, as well as ones he recognized as being older fantasies originally about other people.

_Limbs writhed beneath him, tangling in the sheets and forcing them from the mattress. More and Faster and Fuck Harder repeated against his skin amongst pants and moans and cries of pleasure…_

Yamamoto closed his eyes, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.

_Legs wrapped around his middle, nails scratching into his back, teeth biting down on his neck and an unbearable pressure building up inside him that he understood completely but still scared him shitless…_

His speed increased to a frenzied pace that he couldn't have stopped even if he wanted to.

_Green eyes staring into his own with such intensity and adoration…_

Yamamoto convulsed and stiffened, almost falling off the toilet. His mind spluttered and broke, and for a while he could think of nothing, do nothing or be anywhere. He was all pleasure and that was all that mattered.

Yamamoto remained seated for a long while, even after his senses had returned. He felt around beside the toilet and pulled out some toilet paper, much more then he actually needed. With shaking fingers he cleaned himself up, slowly and deliberately.

It'd been three weeks since his encounter with Hayato in the spare room, and with every passing day the dreams got worse; each one clearer and more realistic then the last. He sometimes woke up several times a night covered in sweat and too uncomfortable to fall back asleep.

All of his old fantasies had switched to star only a single person. Even the ones that normally remained faceless now had Hayato's white hair and fair skin.

Some nights he avoided sleep altogether, and he was pretty sure his friends had started to notice his exhaustion. Kyoko and Haru would shoot him worried looks over the dinner table. Chrome offered to put him to sleep. Ryohei stopped asking him to go on morning runs. Even Gokudera, who would normally do his best to ignore the baseball player, told him to forget his paperwork and just go to bed.

The only time he allowed himself to relax was when Hayato came to visit. The older Storm Guardian hadn't missed a single appointment, if appointment was even the right word for what they were doing. Some days Hayato wouldn't even speak to him, moving straight for Yamamoto's mouth and latching on for the full hour. Other times he would keep his distance and insist on hearing about Yamamoto day, or any other mundane story the boy could think of. Hayato would lay back and close his eyes, listening to him speak about his father, or baseball, or whatever else was on his mind. But even in these quiet moments, Yamamoto could sense Hayato's overwhelming desperation for physical contact. He'd tried several times to get Hayato to talk about their future, but each attempt was met with silence. Yamamoto might not have been the smartest of the Guardians, but he wasn't a fool either, he'd seen people in mourning before; death was no stranger in their line of business.

But it wasn't the mystery of his future that was putting him on edge, it was his deteriorating relationship with Gokudera. The green eyed teen could tell something was up between his older self and the Rain Guardian, and he'd done all he could to steer clear of Yamamoto ever since the Vongola gathering. Even going so far as to outright ignore him during meals and meetings. This hot and cold relationship was starting to seriously stress Yamamoto out; he was definitely attracted to Hayato, but whenever he saw Gokudera, all he felt was irritation. Things were going so well between them before, now they couldn't even sit through breakfast together.

Every baseball he hit, every swing of his sword, every stroke of his pen was intensified by his need to express the passion that was raging inside of him. Never before had he felt so completely frustrated.

Yamamoto had known for a while that he wasn't straight. Maybe it was the way Tsuna looked at Kyoko, or the way the boys in his class ogled his young teacher, but he'd realized some time ago that he would never feel that attraction towards the fairer sex.

His indifference towards woman was not for lack of trying; he'd gone out with a few girls over the years, and gotten pretty far with a couple of them. Sure he could appreciate the extra skin exposure in the boy's changing rooms, but that didn't automatically make him gay, right? In retrospect, he probably should've been paying closer attention. Feeling attracted to the other boys on his baseball team was nothing compared to the effect Gokudera had had on him when they first met in junior high.

But homosexuality had never really occurred to him until Hayato came into the picture. Even when he'd reached the age of sixteen, and his dreams and nighttime fantasies started losing their breasts and curves, a part of him still wanted to deny what it all meant.

Yamamoto looked down at the crumpled toilet paper in his hand; at the aftermath of one of his most powerful orgasms yet. There was certainly no denying it now.

He glanced at the clock above the bathroom mirror: eight am. In a perverse sort of way, the dream had done him a favor by getting him out of bed. That night they would be entertaining over four hundred guests in the Cavallone base, making it the largest Vongola gathering since Tsuna's ascension to boss nearly two years prior. There was still a very long list of things to do before the guests arrived, mostly under Gokudera's direct control. The Storm Guardian had undertaken most of the preparations as soon as he'd been informed of the plan, giving everyone headaches with his endless nagging. Dino had tried intervening a couple times, but the ensuing arguments had gotten him nowhere. (Dino usually had to chose between backing down or having his own property blown to bits)

Yamamoto didn't relish the thought of getting dressed and reentering the chaos that was surely taking place right outside his door. Nevertheless he shuffled across the bedroom to his dresser, the small amount of clothes sent over from Japan barely filling the top two drawers.

He got dressed quickly, choosing something casual and lightweight. He knew from experience that the best defense against Gokudera's annoyance was to steer clear and move _fast_. Even though the Italian would probably rather talk to a teacup than Yamamoto at the moment, it would be dangerous to assume he was in the clear.

Yamamoto pulled out his own to-do list. He was somewhat relieved to see that only one thing remained undone: Collect all valuables and secure the lower vaults.

Yamamoto pulled a face. He didn't even know where the vaults were in the enormous house. _Why couldn't Gokudera just trust Dino with this one?_ Leave it to the Storm Guardian to remain consistently suspicious of even the strongest of their allies.

He decided to start with getting breakfast out of the way; he would give Dino a few more hours to wake up properly before bugging him for the vault codes.

XxXxX

Something about the way the tall oak doors stood slightly ajar kept Yamamoto from entering Dino's office right away. He could barely make out the muffled speech coming from the other side, but from the tone it wasn't a pleasant conversation. There was a particularly sharp quality to the voices, as though both participants were in a rush to speak but at the same time exhausted by their own arguments.

Yamamoto crept closer. There was no harm in listening in, right? Normally Gokudera would be the one doing suspicious things like this, and not having him around all the time was having an odd effect on Yamamoto's sense of right and wrong. When he didn't need to be supervising Gokudera's ridiculously antisocial behavior, he found himself perpetrating it just to fill in the blanks.

Through the crack between the doors Yamamoto could make out Hibari and Dino, standing face to face and looking at each other straight in the eyes.

"Is that what you're planning on wearing tonight?" Hibari asked. (Except it wasn't so much a question as a statement of his own opinion)

"It's my house, I can wear whatever I want."

"Well I refuse to wear a suit if you're going to go around looking like that."

"Presentation is crucial. The whole point of this gathering is to show an organized front."

"I fail to see how a tuxedo will convince anyone of our unity. One word from that idiot Sasagawa and anyone listening will attack on the spot."

Dino was silent, inspecting his ex-student for a full minute before answering. "You always have that disciplinary band on," he brought a hand up to tug at the red cloth on Hibari's arm, "even when you're away from Namimori."

"That's different."

"How so? You wear it to show unity and organization."

"My armband does not signify a subservient existence. I'm in charge of Namimori, without me those herbivores would all run amok."

"What herbivores? You aren't there now."

The two looked at each other, with Dino's arm still held between them like an elephant neither would acknowledge. Yamamoto tensed, readying himself unconsciously for the inevitable bout of violence from their most temperamental Guardian.

But it never came. Instead Hibari just glared into Dino's face, as though the argument were an old one and he was tired of it coming up.

"Take it off." Dino said suddenly. "I dare you to take it off."

"Why does it matter?"

"You know why it matters_._"

"Well why do you care?"

"I care because you spend half the year here with me but _won't admit that I'm more important to you than some stupid committee_!"

Hibari growled somewhere deep in his throat, twisting out of Dino's grip and moving out of Yamamoto's view. "There's someone at your door." He said briskly, and it took Yamamoto several seconds to register his own stupidity. How long had he been standing there?

Dino paused, then slipped seamlessly into Italian, throwing out quick sentences Yamamoto couldn't decipher. It was clear that the switch had been deliberate; of all the Guardians, only Gokudera, Lambo and Hibari spoke the language fluently.

Yamamoto barely had enough time to stumble back a decent distance before the doors were wrenched open from the inside. Hibari stared at him for a moment, his face already back to its usual mask of indifference. He swept passed without so much as a word.

"Yamamoto. I'm glad you stopped by." Dino called, and Yamamoto had to rush inside to save himself from any further embarrassment. Dino was too relaxed of a guy to get angry about the eavesdropping, but Yamamoto knew better than to test his patience.

"I had Romario go around and collect all of our precious jewelry and important documents for safekeeping. All that's left for you to do is verify that the list is complete and put a Vongola seal on the records."

Yamamoto nodded, looking at the large pile of valuables stacked on Dino's desk. He'd assumed Dino would take it upon himself to collect up all the items before Yamamoto had the chance. Anything to disrupt Gokudera's plans.

"Pretty much everything here belongs to the Cavallone, but there is one thing that Reborn wanted us to lock down there as well." Dino picked up a small box and handed it to Yamamoto. It was heavy for its size, painted a simple black color and secured by an old brass lock. Yamamoto fingered the keyhole absentmindedly.

"I'm not sure what it is," Dino continued, "but if Reborn thinks it's better off below ground, I'm not gonna argue. Last time that happened he made me shovel the entire driveway. _This_ entire driveway."

Yamamoto grinned at the young boss; glad his friend had decided not to hold any grudges about his rude behavior.

"Whatever Reborn wants." Yamamoto agreed. "Now where do I sign for these? If I don't get this done by noon Gokudera might explode all by himself."

XxXxX

"Ah, Yamamoto-San!" A voice boomed from behind him. "Come sit with us, enjoy some wine!"

Yamamoto turned and smiled at the Bovino table, clearly identifiable by the wide variety of cow-patterned suits they all insisted on wearing. He'd only met their boss twice on missions, but anyone witnessing their interaction during the banquet would assume they were old pals.

A beefy hand descended upon Yamamoto's shoulder, the rings adorning each finger sparkling in the dimly lit hall. "I won't take no for an answer my boy. You've been avoiding our table all night!"

Yamamoto seriously doubted he was the only one avoiding their company; in fact he was sure he'd seen Lambo sneaking off as soon as his family had arrived. The hand on his shoulder disappeared for a moment to sweep across the table and clear a spot, knocking over empty glasses and plates in the process. The men and women sitting nearby barely seemed to register the noise, merely speaking louder over the ruckus.

"Sit! Sit!" The hand returned, forcing him to take a seat. "Have some of this pudding!"

Yamamoto thanked the boss and accepted the proffered plate, deciding not to ask who'd already taken a large chunk out of it. Of all their guests, the Bovino family had been the last to arrive and the first to finish their meals, even ordering seconds and thirds before most had finished their entrées.

"And the cake… Mio Dio! I have never had anything so delicious in my life."

Another plate of food was pushed at him, along with a glass of wine. Yamamoto was starting to understand why Lambo had decided to avoid his family; even the notoriously sweet-toothed Lightning Guardian would have trouble handling this much sugar.

"You will have to pass on my compliments to the chef! Or perhaps you can introduce me?"

"Hayato!"

Yamamoto froze, fork halfway to his mouth. Hayato was at the banquet? That was impossible; they didn't have anything scheduled for another three days…

"I recognize the workings of a woman in these little soufflés; I bet she is as pretty as her creations, no?"

Yamamoto nodded distractedly, scanning the hall for the Storm Guardian. His gaze landed on the white haired man almost instantly, but it wasn't Hayato he was seeing, just Gokudera speaking with a much older man. Yamamoto frowned, there was something really familiar about the man he was with. It didn't take long for Yamamoto to spot the distressed look on Gokudera's face, or the way he was hunched over and twitching his fingers, as though he were an inch away from blowing the whole place.

"Now _these_. These are the best crepes I've had in a long time… a delicacy fit for a king!"

"I apologize Bovino-san." Yamamoto interrupted, standing up and giving a short bow. "Please excuse me while I go use the washroom." Turning on his heel, Yamamoto made a beeline for the Storm Guardian, whom he now realized was standing with his sister. Yamamoto stopped a little ways away from them, sure that if Gokudera saw him approaching, the teen would run off immediately.

"-heard about what happened with the Beccio." The man was saying. "A shame, Carmine had such a distinguished art collection."

"Funny, I didn't notice that when the help tried to kill me." Gokudera grumbled back, barely audible from Yamamoto's position.

"Hayato this is no time to be glib. I had hoped your new position among the Vongola would have taught you some respect."

The man turned to Bianchi and his expression softened. "Take your sister for example. I hear nothing but good things about her poison cooking."

Bianchi gave a small smile. "Thank you father." She replied respectfully, "I appreciate the opportunity to work alongside Reborn once again."

Yamamoto blinked in surprise. _Father?_ That was _Gokudera's father_? No wonder the man looked so familiar. It was like looking through some odd mirror caught between the past and the future. They were identical in nearly every aspect – He may not have had Gokudera's white hair or bright green eyes, but his father had the same hard-edged look about him, and the same lanky body build. They were so alike that it seemed maybe Hayato of the future _had_ made an early visit, except this time from forty years into the future, not ten.

However the expression on their faces couldn't have been more different. Gokudera's father was rigid, standing straight up and looking down at his two children. While Yamamoto could usually read Gokudera's expression from a mile away, his father's face was completely impenetrable. Seeing that look on a face that reminded him so much of his friend sent chills down Yamamoto's spine.

"Weird isn't it?" Came a voice from behind him.

Yamamoto glanced around, not entirely surprised to see Shamal standing at the bar with a drink in each hand.

"They've never gotten along, not even when Gokudera was a little kid." The doctor took a swig from his liquor and burped into his closed mouth, his lips ballooning outward comically. "His mother was the only thing that kept things civil between them, and when she died there really wasn't anyone left in his family Gokudera could talk to."

"Except you." Yamamoto pointed out, taking in Shamal's appearance. Gokudera may have inherited his parents' good looks, but his fighting style and mannerisms were all taken from Shamal. They even shared the same hairstyle.

"What are you talking about? I don't treat men." Shamal turned away from him, leaning heavily against the bar. "There are never enough women at these functions."

Well maybe not entirely the same. Gokudera had never shown any interest in the women Shamal brought back to the base. How was it Yamamoto felt so sure of that?

"Bianchi told me about how you trained Gokudera as a kid; got him interested in bombs." Yamamoto grinned. "I bet you regret that now."

"Nonsense. I just showed him a few tricks with my mosquitoes. His pyromania has nothing to do with me." The doctor took a long swig from his wine glass, hiding a proud smile that flashed across his face. But Yamamoto didn't miss it.

"Well whatever you did, it made him one hell of a fighter."

Yamamoto could no longer see Gokudera anywhere; he wasn't with his father or sister, who were still standing on the sidelines, chatting quietly. By the time Gokudera reappeared it was nearly three AM, stumbling and tripping through the hall with his arm around another man. A well-dressed man Yamamoto didn't recognize; his demeanor only slightly tipsy compared to Gokudera's complete shitfacedness.

Yamamoto watched as the two made their way to the buffet table, where Gokudera freed himself from the man's grip temporarily to pour himself another drink. The stranger's gaze drifted noticeably downward to Gokudera's well shaped behind, lingering for an entirely inappropriate amount of time.

Yamamoto's eyes widened as the man made a move to grab at Gokudera's ass, only to miss when the Guardian reached for a different bottle. An angry bubble formed in Yamamoto's stomach, making him want to punch something. The man wasn't even that attractive! Nice shoulders maybe… and his brown hair wasn't so bad… and okay he was a pretty decent height…

Yamamoto made a move towards the pair, not entirely sure of what he wanted to achieve, just that he wanted them separated. Completely separated. Like maybe-that-guy-could-go-six-feet-under separated.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder, startling him out of his violent thoughts. Shamal was watching Gokudera as well, his expression serious.

"Don't." He advised simply, tightening his grip momentarily before letting go. "He's being stupid, but getting angry at a drunk man never did anyone any good."

"Who the hell is that guy?" Yamamoto growled, unable to keep the tension out of his voice.

"You don't know the guests at your own party?" Shamal scolded lightly, but continued. "I have no idea either, but he's got a vice-captain's ring. Look, on his right hand."

Yamamoto followed Shamal's gaze, where sure enough an enormous gold ring circled the man's right index finger. They were too far to make out the family's crest, but there was no doubt that the man was fairly high up.

"Do yourself a favor and go to bed." Shamal advised.

Yamamoto shook his head slowly, his eyes following Gokudera as they left the hall. The man's arm was back around Gokudera's shoulders, guiding him through the maze of people and out the back doors. Yamamoto could see the way he leaned in towards the white-haired teen, their mouths nearly touching.

A waiter stepped in front of him, offering a tray of drinks. There was no pause for thought as Yamamoto grabbed a couple shots, downing them both in quick succession.

XxXxX

Gokudera lay in bed with his eyes closed for twenty minutes after waking up. First he ran a tongue across the inside of his teeth, trying to figure out what that foreign taste was. He recognized the alcohol, and the cigarettes. Damn, how much had he smoked last night?

The next thing he did was feel for his clothes. He could feel a slight breeze over his torso, which meant he was topless, but thankfully he was still wearing his pants and, oddly, his shoes.

Last on his checklist was location. Normally when he woke up after a night of drinking there was a good chance he'd find himself in a bathroom somewhere or laying down in the backseat of his car. This felt like a bed though, a _nice _bed. He cracked an eye open experimentally.

Okay, he was in his room. That was a nice change of pace.

It took him ten minutes to get dressed and ready to go down to breakfast, which was pretty fucking quick compared to most people suffering from a hangover. Being able to maintain a certain level of dignity after a night of binge drinking was a rare thing, and it was a point of pride for Gokudera.

Of course nothing rare and beautiful can last forever, and Gokudera wasn't even three feet outside his door when he was accosted by a very loud and demanding eight-year old.

"Who was that man?"

Gokudera squinted down at Lambo, his brain trying to process the question while at the same time trying desperately to ignore it.

"Go away." He said finally.

"There was a man in your room, he left about an hour ago."

Now _that_ was disconcerting. Gokudera couldn't remember anyone being in his room that night. Then again, he couldn't remember much of anything past the argument with his father.

"None of your business, stupid cow."

Lambo pouted. "Ew were you two getting it on in there? Gross!"

"Why you little–" Gokudera made a grab for Lambo's arm, but his reflexes were still dull with alcohol. The Lightning Guardian jumped out of his reach at the last second, his face transforming instantly into pure delight at the prospect of annoying Gokudera even further.

"You were!" He cackled, dodging Gokudera's fingers as they swiped at his chest with pitiable accuracy. "I guess he was sort-of good looking… tall, dark hair, nice shoulders. He was smiling like an idiot!"

Gokudera froze. That description certainly rang a bell. A big, too close to home bell that made him want to vomit all over the carpet. But there was no way… Not even a truckload of vodka would get him in bed with… Lambo wouldn't joke about it if it'd been…

"I guess you're good in bed. What a surprise!"

"Shut up!" Gokudera growled low in his throat, smacking Lambo over the head and was a little surprised when his fist actually connected.

"Ouch, you asshole!" Lambo cried, his hands flying to the offended area. "You'll pay for that!"

It took the Bovino only two seconds to locate the Bazooka inside his mess of hair, and less than a second to take aim at the angry Storm Guardian.

"Hasta la vista octopus brain!"

XxXxX

Gokudera was half-expecting his next adventure to take place in a snake pit, the way his luck was running.

But it turned out his future-self had been relaxing in a beach chair when the switch had been made, a long stretch of sand at his feet and the vast expanse of sea laying to his left. There were a few things around, a beach towel, some sun block, a beer, but nothing to suggest the presence of another human being.

Gokudera scanned the beach looking for any signs of life, but aside from the seagulls, he was completely alone.

There was a long row of houses a little ways up, sitting right on a cliff where the tide would most likely come in during the evenings. He could see onto the porch of the house closest to him quite clearly, the back door left slightly ajar. Gokudera frowned. This situation would be eerie if it weren't for the slight familiarity about the place. He'd definitely seen this particular beach before, and recently.

He was walking up to the house even before he realized what he was doing. The sand was soft between his toes, making his ascent silent and oddly peaceful. There was no hesitation in his mind when he gripped the door and pulled it open, revealing an exquisitely decorated living room and kitchen. He'd been expecting a more modest home given the setting, but most of the upholstery he could see was leather, the wood mahogany, and the countertops were definitely marble. The abrupt change of style would probably turn most people off, but Gokudera took an instant liking to the interior.

He ventured further into the kitchen, running a hand along the counters and stove. Everything was in such perfect condition, like the owners were getting ready to sell. Gokudera abandoned the kitchen and entered the living room on the excuse that he was more likely to find information on the occupants in their area of relaxation.

All thoughts of snooping were driven from his mind the minute he rounded the corner. The center of the room was occupied by a ring of couches, all leather and in excellent taste, surrounding a coffee table with a number of documents all spread out.

The couches all faced an enormous picture window overlooking the beach, the ceiling reaching at least fifteen feet into the air. In front of the glass sat a grand piano. Black and elegant and _familiar_.

There was no doubt in Gokudera's mind as he approached the ivories. This piano was _his piano_. The one he'd circled in dozens of ads all over his apartment and secretly dreamed about for years. The piano he'd made enough money to buy when his first Vongola paycheck came in but never had the guts to purchase. The instrument that would put his dirty electronic keyboard from Japan to shame, and any other piano he'd ever used.

His fingers ghosted across the keys, barely touching, and he felt a shiver run up his arm. He wouldn't allow himself to play, not when he didn't have anything properly prepared. His first notes on this masterpiece would have to be the greatest piece of music he'd ever played.

Gokudera could be poetic when it came to the piano, but the chair wasn't off limits, right? He sat down slowly onto the bench, noticing that the cushions were flattened in two places and not in the middle.

There was no sheet music anywhere, and Gokudera ran a hand along the top case incase some of the papers had fallen. He was interested in knowing what was normally played on these keys. Was it worthy of such an amazing instrument as this?

His fingers found the corner of a paper stuffed behind the lid, and he pulled it out carefully. What he found wasn't a piece of music; it was a photograph.

A fading image of himself, sitting on one of the couches that at that very moment sat before him in the mysterious room with Yamamoto beside him. At first he was transfixed by the sight of his own face, having never before seen this older version of his own body. It was unsettling, seeing how age would eventually catch up to him in so many subtle little ways. They were dressed casually, like they were in someone's personal home.

Gokudera studied their positions. They were relaxed into the couch, not upright or alert. Nor were they showing any signs of discomfort at their proximity, even though their legs and shoulders were touching. Gokudera had a hand on Yamamoto's knee and he could just barely make out one of Yamamoto's fingers peeking out from around his waist. They looked freshly tanned, like they'd been spending months out in the sunshine. Their clothes looked damp with sea spray, as though they'd just gotten in from outside, and Gokudera's long white hair was mussed from the wind and his ears a little overly red. Yamamoto's pants even had a bit of sand still clinging to the ankles.

His own mouth was drawn upwards in a rare smile caught on camera, with his eyes partially closed in the sincerity of his expression. His head was tilted slightly to the right towards Yamamoto. Gokudera felt a light tug in his chest at the look of pure happiness on Yamamoto's face, not so different from his usual self yet so beautiful given the context.

And that was the only way Gokudera could think of describing it. It was beautiful. They were beautiful.

Gokudera was still clutching at the photo when the tugging began, signaling his return to the present.

XxXxX

"What do you mean it's _gone_?"

"Don't make me repeat myself Tsuna."

"But how is that even possible? Nobody knew about it except us!"

"Stop talking, I need to think."

"But Reborn–"

_Thwack_

It took a moment for Gokudera to catch his bearings, he was still holding the photograph in both hands, and he carefully folded it into his breast pocket for safekeeping. His older self had moved away from the hall outside his bedroom and taken him somewhere he didn't recognize. He could hear Tsuna and Reborn arguing a few doors down from where he was standing, but he wasn't anywhere near Tsuna's temporary office on the fifth floor. He tried to find a window to help orient himself but there were none in the dingy corridor, and it felt chillier than normal.

"…Do we at least know when it was taken? _Don't hit me it's a valid question_."

"Around seven AM this morning."

"Well that narrows it down doesn't it? We can check the surveillance and double-check with the guards and–"

"And then we'll have to tell everyone what we lost, and if we don't they'll get suspicious. Don't be such an idiot."

"But Reborn–"

_Thwack_

XxXxX

**A/N:** Oh thank god exams are over; I thought I'd never get out of there alive… Happy Hanukah and Merry Christmas everyone I hope this longer-than-usual update makes up for the tardiness. Things are moving along in this chapter, and I'm quite happy with it. Most of you will have enjoyed my use of _semi-smut _right at the beginning. You were patient with me and here I've delivered!

Reviews:

**Ezzelin: **Thank you so much for the vote of confidence, I was pretty worried about that last chapter being too confusing, and I'm glad it worked so well for you :) As always your reviews are the ones I look forward to the most! **Yui-3000:** Yay you loved it! That's always good to hear haha. I hope you stick with it, as it'll keep getting more interesting as the plot thickens. I promise! **ViciousLies:** I'm sorry to have kept you waiting D: Although I know this chapter is definitely one you'll like! As for MSN, my email is on my ff page so go right ahead :) I'm not on very often though, skype is so much better o_O **loonytwin: **Haha if you liked that last chapter then I think you'll like this one even more. Thanks for reviewing each time, it makes me happy to know I have readers that stick with it! **Plastic Roses: **Lmao yeah I was laughing the whole time while writing the pink thrift store scene, I'm glad you liked it too! And the kiss nearly killed me. Jesus. Thanks for your reviews :) **Soaha: **You're right. Keep reading and you'll find out! Thanks for the comments. **YaoiOtakuLover8059:** hehe that's the whole point of the story! I won't be giving any of that away just yet… Thank you for the review and support, much appreciated! **Rogue solus: **LOL it took me forever to come up with a good ending to that chapter, I'm glad you liked it :) People keep pestering me about Yama in the future, but you'll just have to wait and see evil laughter **skyvoltage:** Ah a new convert to 8059 :] I'm glad you could join us! Hopefully you'll stick with it, thanks for the review! **Iheartanime07:** Thanks for the review :) You'll have to keep reading to find out haha **1angelette: **It's refreshing when I get an actual review and not just questions about the next chapter, thank you so much for your praise! I really hope my delay in updating hasn't put you off reading my story :) You can look forward to more present!Goku/Yama from now on, I promise ;) **mochi-doi3:** Keep reading to find out! Thanks for the review :)


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